Wolfsbane, a Potion that Ensnares the Senses
by Naria Sojair
Summary: Professor's Snape and Lupin are reunited in Harry's Fifth year. As Voldemort rises, people closest to Harry are brought to Hogwarts to portect him. This is the adventures of the professors. **No Slash, but it has a place** !!!!!Please read and REVIEW!!!!!
1. A Seal Still Remembered

Disclaimer: J.K Rowling... to her what is due. The rest is mine.  
  
A Seal Still Remembered  
  
A smile played across her face as she looked at the sleeping form of Remus. It was almost time, she knew, but she would enjoy the last few peace filled days until. Naria shock her head at the thought.  
  
Naria mentally prepared herself for this every time but that really did not make it that much easier. When it was over she knew he would be worse for wear, potion or not. He may be rational, but the potion had as many side effects as the Wolf itself. Remus, however, chooses to bear them. It was the only to way for him to be safe in the transformed form of the Wolf. Lycanthropy was a serious ailment and she knew that he could pose a threat if he didn't take the Wolfsbane potion.  
  
At the same moment she was aware that he could be a threat, she was also aware of the fact that he would never hurt any one intentionally. She knew he had come close to doing that on accident once or twice and had almost tried to kill Peter, but that was different. Peter had done horrible things, aided horrible people and planned murders of the innocent. If Sirius and Remus had killed Peter, it would have been little skin of her back. Peter disserved what ever he got.  
  
Distantly, she remembered the little boy who one day became one of Voldemort's supporters and would be the reason he was able to return to the form of man, stronger than ever. He had been a dumpy little boy who clearly enjoyed his food. Not to brilliant and nearly a squib. He also had a tendency to ally himself with the biggest fish in the sea, no matter their beliefs as long as they offered him protection from all the other little fish.  
  
She really had not thought that he would turn to the dark side, but then when she had found out that Sirius had supposedly done the same, the same thoughts had crossed her mind. To Sirius's credit, he had not done that what he had been accused of.  
  
She was surprised that she could remember the marauders in such detail. She had been in the same house, true, but she had been in the next grade up. She was still the same age because she had been accepted to Hogwarts a year early. Distinctly she could remember some of they're antics, especially the trick they had tried to play on her. She had gotten the impression even as a kid that Sirius had been taken with her in her seventh year, but she had ignored his advances and in the process he had ended up making a fool of himself in front of his friends after the rejections, much to her delight.  
  
She may have not been as out going with her mischievous nature as they were, but she definitely had one. That was not to be denied. She, however, was better at not getting caught. Silently, she had known that most of the time they had been caught, James, Remus, and Sirius that is, was because their other supposed friend had never been in the same league, a bit of daftish git, if she remembered properly.  
  
Yawning she pulled herself out of memory and back into the real world. As was her daily ritual, she pulled out that days robes, silky cream with a silver swirled pattern that was reminiscent of the Celtic tradition. They also had a mandarin color and knot buttons and draping princess style sleeves. At the same time, she also placed her wand with her things. It was a fourteen inch ebony wand with a phoenix feather as it core, beautifully crafted by one of the best wand makers in Diagon Alley, Mr. Oliviander. Soon she would find herself at work and would be in desperate need of that wand, if today were like any other normal day at the office.  
  
Removing what little she had been wearing from last night she took a quick shower and dressed.  
  
"Remus," she said in her voice that was barely above a whisper and prodded him gently. He was still soundly asleep even though it was already eight twenty in the morning. She knew that the pull of the moons would already be affecting him by now, but that did not mean he could sleep all day. Plus, she was not completely certain she wanted him to be horrible awake in the middle of the night, that is if she wanted to get to work on time in the morning. As it was now, she was still exceedingly tired. "Remus," she called quietly again.  
  
He opened his eyes groggily. The day before he had taken his first dose of the potion and she knew that he would not be feeling well today. She silently wished there was away to make that foul smelling and worse tasting potion better, but she knew that sugar made it completely useless if not poisonous. He gave her a rueful smile. "Dressed and every thing," he said with his usual mirth. "Pity."  
  
"Remus," she said with a bit of an edge in her voice. This was not his usual demeanor. No on the contrary he was generally a quiet man and rather serious for his age and dare she say gender. But just as he did not act his age, he also did not look it. The lycanthropy had taken a lot out of him, including what would have been his youthful appearance. Already, not yet in even in his forties, he had a mass of brown hair filled with gray.  
  
"Kidding, kidding," he said holding up his hands as she sat next to him on the bed thry shared. "Once a Marauder."  
  
She silently was thankful of the fact that he could talk about his friends like this even with all that had happened. She knew how much he missed James, and how shocked he was about Peter. ".Always a Marauder," she said finishing the statement. A smile once again crossed her face at the thought of how much she enjoyed this man's company.  
  
He leaned forward and gave her a gentle kiss.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
Remus could taste Naria on his lips even after they had finished their kiss. Finally a plus side to this whole werewolf business. With stronger senses than normal he would not be surprised if he could smell her on his clothing all day.  
  
Just as there were plus sides there were also downs to that particular trait of the Wolf. It made Wolfsbane at least twice as worse if not more.  
  
"Right. So when do you have to be off for work?" he asked her as he lifted himself of their four-poster.  
  
"I'll use the Floo system, so not 'till five before nine," she answered.  
  
She was an Auror. Dangerous business Remus thought, but was wiser than to say so to her. It was her job to hunt done those who make it a practice of using dark magic and even though she was young, she was good at her job with the Ministry. He knew that if they were ever to decide to start a family he would have to press the issue of her job. She had so many prospects that it really was not much of problem if she ever chose to change careers. She had graduated top of class at Hogwarts and had been Head Girl in her final year. Not only was her school performance rather good and been seeker before an accident which lead to Potter becoming the Gryfindor seeker, but at the Ministry she had a good reputation and had foiled many wizards and witches bent on trouble and mayhem, especially during the first rise of Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Along with James and others, like Dumbledore, she had also been rather prominent in the Order of the Phoenix. There was no denying that she could do any thing she wanted to. but would she?  
  
Silently, he feared the answer to that question might be a no. She did have a special affinity for chasing down those who colluded with evil . He wondered if it provided an adrenaline rush she had not been able to find any other way.  
  
"Reme's," she called out to him again. It was the name that only she ever called him, a name that had a special place in his heart. "Going to get up or am I going to have to drag you out off bed."  
  
"You could try. That threat's not much of a prompter you know. Not exactly a reason to get out of bed," a smile crossed his face. He was happy here. It had been a long time since he had actually been able to say that. He enjoyed, just as he had when he was a boy at school, joking a bit. Even with all that had happened in his life he remained true to his playful and boyish spirit on occasion.  
  
For a second she took on the look that he imagined she wore as an Auror and suddenly felt a little sorry for those who crossed her. It was almost.Snape- ish. Then another smile spread across her face. "Come now, up. I won't have you making me late."  
  
"Oh alright. If you insist," he said, getting up from the bed.  
  
"Tea?" she asked with a light and airy voice as she hurried out of the bedroom and gave him a chance to ready himself for the day ahead.  
  
"That would be wonderful, thank you," he called, answering her question. He pulled open the wardrobe she had earlier and picked the clothing he would darn today. Because of his time at Hogwarts he had finally been able to get a few new robes. Nothing like those the other teachers often darned, but then Lupin always preferred to be understated, preferred to not draw attention to himself. Years of experience had taught him that when dealing with most people it was not wise to bring attention to oneself if you were a werewolf.  
  
Naria had not rejected him, unlike so many who had. On the contrary, she had more than accepted him. She had made a place in her heart for him that no other could or would fill.  
  
He felt the same way. When he first met her he had been oddly drawn to her. She was quite beautiful, but that had nothing to do with his attraction to her, or at least not a lot to do with it. He thought it was a bit of her enigmatic nature that made him attracted to her. But truth be told, the beauty of love and what we love in those we love are those qualities we can't quantify, those things that are a mystery to us. Silently, he wondered if the reason people stopped loving each other was because they finally discovered those things that had originally caused the attraction.  
  
"Don't forget.you still have to take your potion," she called from the kitchen over a whistling teapot.  
  
A quick grimace had crossed his face. The smell of the potion immediately came to mind. Naria said the stuff smelled disgusting, she had no idea. With the heighten senses of a werewolf he had downed that disgusting elixir more times than he cared to remember. One credit to the brewer was that it certainly tasted better when she brewed it.  
  
He finished pulling on his robes after a quick shower and walked out into the small kitchen that was in the house they had been sharing just outside a small village on the Cornwall coast. Through the window by the small dining table, he could see the flower garden that was nearly in full bloom. Almost from a fairy-tale, he thought with an odd smile crossing his face, bringing light to his tired eyes. Voldemort will never touch this place, nor this moment Remus thought as he looked over the garden with it's lovely iris in full flower. He knew that they bloomed nearly year around because of the gardening charms Naria used on them, and indeed they had a garden no muggle family's could rival, mainly because of the magic that was imbued in it, magic that was not only the sort a witch or wizard used.  
  
He also looked at his fiancé. Her golden hair cascading down her back in gentle wavy curls that reached just bellow her knee. Her eyes a brilliant shade of cerulean blue, like that of the waters in the Caribbean. Her office clothing clung in all the right place high-lighting her figure and she looked positively a glow this morning. In the darkened bedroom he had not noticed, but he had to admit she looked exceptionally beautiful. As he entered, a smile spread across her face as she noticed him staring for what seemed like an oddly long period of time.  
  
"See something interesting?"  
  
"Oh, just the prettiest woman I've seen along time," replied a jovial Lupin.  
  
"Ha ha.that's an interesting line," she said with a wide grin that reflected some of her playful nature.  
  
"I thought so." Lupin was happy here. He was genuinely happy here and for a heartbeat he wished she would never have to leave, the heart beat before logic set in. He knew she would have to leave for work, but that didn't keep him from hoping.  
  
But as that heartbeat was suspended and logic did set in his thoughts were also pulled to his friends. So many people were in danger now. Voldemort was on the rise, even if the Ministry of Magic was too daft to believe it. Every one in the Ministry of Magical Law Enforcement was reading the signs. All the old Aurors were even more on guard then they had been before. Their worse fears had come to life and now everyone had to deal with that. Making their job worse was the fact they were dealing with an Administration that was too afraid to read the signs, signs such as disappearances, signs that had been prelude to the first time Voldemort rose to power.  
  
The levity of the earlier moments was soon lost, he hoped he would regain it, but these were dangerous times. Remus J. Lupin had only two fears, two nearly over powering fears. The first was that Naria would die in the execution of her duties, that some Death Eater would level his wand at her and she would be unable to dodge. He would utter the words of the most unforgivable of the unforgivable curses and she would fall to the ground, first to her knees and then completely collapsing as she was enveloped in a shower of green light, sickly green light. Considering her career this very well could be her fate. Aurors chose a line of work that put them in the line of fire. Their job was literally hunting down the worst of the worst. Naria had been on the front line and she was lucky to be in one piece, if not alive. Especially lucky considering she had once been caught by the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. No other Auror could say that. All that had meet the Dark Lord in person had not lived to tell the tale. In fact, the only none supporter that Lupin knew to have meet the Dark Lord and survived was Harry Potter. This put Naria in a very small group. Whether this was something to consider a distinction, Lupin was highly skeptical.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
Breakfast was the same exceptional fare of high tea that she usually made. The scones, as sweet as normal. And the company. just as great.  
  
With her wand she magicked away the dishes and the leftovers. And got ready to use the Floo network to get to her next destination, her office at the Ministry of Magic. His tutorage would be arriving in an hour and until then he had scant to do.  
  
It was a beautiful August day and a letter arrived by owl post as soon as she had left. The snowy owl, much like Harry's Hedwig, nipped affectionately at his hand as he untied the letter fastened to its leg and flew off as soon as the letter was removed. He recognized the green lettering and the seal on the letter with out even reading the words. This was a Hogwarts letter.  
  
Professor R. Lupin  
  
The Cozy Cottage with the Garden of Irises  
  
Somewhere Outside St. Ives  
  
He looked at the letters with a little curiosity. He had told them he would not be returning.  
  
Soon after the first letter arrived a second owl dropped one on the table. The same green lettering was flourished across its front this one however addressed.addressed to his fiancé. On its front was also the prefix professor. How curious, he thought to himself.  
  
Professor N. Sojair  
  
The Cozy Cottage with the Garden of Irises  
  
Somewhere Outside St. Ives  
  
He opened the letter addressed to him and read:  
  
Dear Professor Lupin,  
  
A position has once again opened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and your name has come up as one who could possiblely fill our need for a Defense Against the Dark Arts.  
  
We are aware that you may have certain reservations. certain fears about taking the position. The headmaster would like to reiterate the point that in this position you can have what you have always sought. He states that students already respect you and the parents will not question the headmaster's decision. Dumbledore also wanted me to tell you that the best way you can combat the rise of evil is to teach a future generation to fight against it.  
  
A reply at your earliest conveniences would be appreciated.  
  
Yours Sincerely,  
  
Minerva McGonagall  
  
Minerva McGonagall  
  
Deputy Headmistress  
  
With in the letter was a second parchment. He recognized the lettering almost immediately, Professor Dumbledore's. It had been scribed in the Professors usual scrawl.  
  
Dear Remus,  
  
I hate to call a favor but in this case I really need one. We are once again short a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, seeing to the story of jinxes that surround the position and the rise of Voldemort. I was wondering if you could take the position this year. Also I ask you for one other reason. With Voldemort's most recent accomplishments I fear for young Potter and his friends. It would be good this year for them to have a qualified Defense Against the Dark Arts and for Potter to have a trusting adult confident. As for the concerns that are running through your mind at this moment: Yes, you maybe a werewolf but I have utmost confidence in you and with the position that you are of no harm to any one. It would not be fit for you turn down the position based on the incident on the last full moon you were here. Also, the students like you, knowledge or no and the parents have never been ones to question my decisions on mass. I may not have universal approval, but I always have approval You are a good teacher and Hogwarts would certainly be better with you in the position. Please consider my offer.  
  
Yours Truly,  
  
Albus  
  
Remus read the letter to himself one more time. He had left Hogwarts because he realized that he could really be a danger to others. But now he wasn't so certain that he really should have left, especially after the fiasco with Harry's last teacher to fill that position. It was because of that previous teacher that Voldemort had nearly killed him. He thought to himself for a good long moment that he might seriously consider the offer.  
  
He had certainly enjoyed teaching. He had enjoyed working with students and watching them learn and the watching the epiphanies that came with learning certain thing through hands on experience and watching students grow, not only with knowledge but with wisdom. Hopefully, he thought ruefully.  
  
Then his thoughts drifted to the boy that was in so many ways like his father, his mind drifted to the boy whose father he had once been best friends with. His mind drifted to the boy who he had found one of his best students in his short time at Hogwarts. His mind drifted to the boy that lived.  
  
One day, he thought, he'd like to have a son or daughter like Harry. Harry was a good boy who had gone through so much that certainly wasn't fair, but then that was life.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
Her desk, as usual, was covered with all sorts of reports. Ever since the Tri-wizard Championship it had been so. With Voldemort having returned to human form and his power rising, reports of the Dark Mark across the nation, her job was anything but peaceful. She silently was thankful for one fact, as of yet the rash of murders had not started.  
  
She could remember the murders from the first rise. She could remember them. The first year she had started the job as an Auror they had started. She remembered the first time that symbol of evil had been sent up. She had been the first to be sent out there to put a cap on the situation. She had remembered that symbol in wispy green that looked like a scull and a snake. She had entered the house barely twenty minutes after it happened.  
  
The house was unnaturally cold. A great evil had happened here. Mark or not she knew just from the feeling of the air. It was like some one had screamed and been silenced in a second and that silence was what filled the small house. It was an unnatural silence. The moment of death had stuck to this place.  
  
As she walked past the entrance she saw the first one. A muggle. He had been silenced in a second by. by an unforgivable curse. Avanda Kedavra had silenced him. The worst of the curses had done this and it been preformed by one of the worst wizards. The poor man had a look of complete terror across his face. He had known the moment of death and life in one and had known what was going to happen upon looking into the eyes of his killer. He had died in terror, in the realization of what would await his family and what he would be unable to protect them from. He had been the first to go and he had died with the knowledge of what was to happen after his death.  
  
She silently walked into the next room to find a young woman. She had not simply died, but rather had the curse of control placed upon her, had been forced to murder two of her children. She recognized the tell tale signs of the curse. The blood was everywhere. And in it was scribed a message upon one of the walls.  
  
THOUGHT I'D MAKE YOUR LIFE EASIER, AUROR SOJAIR. MURDER SUCIDE FROM THE MUGGLES POINT OF VIEW. NEXT TIME, YOU WON'T BE SO LUCKY.  
  
As she progressed to one more room she found the last of the family. Two twin brothers, with streaks of blond hair, barely ten. They had blood under their fingernails. These two had tied to put up a defense, but to no avail. For their efforts, they had probably died the worst possible way. Tortured to death by the last of three unforgivable curses.  
  
What had happened in this place was sickening and a girl of barely eighteen should never have seen such things. Just as this family should have never been subjected to such things. Just as these boys.just as these boys shouldn't have suffered a prolonged death. a prolonged and horrible death as they had. And from this scene she vowed that she would fight this evil that had caused this and that was the day that she would lead to her induction into the Order of the Phoenix.  
  
At that time, she had worked with one of the greatest Aurors of their time, "Mad Eye" Moody. He had comforted her after what had happened, but had assured her that this was certainly not going to be the last of such cases and had asked if she was really prepared to deal with this again and again. and unfortunately again. She had been so shaken up, what a way that had been to start your first day. Her name scrawled on the wall put her even more on edge.  
  
Voldemort knew more about her than she thought was possible, had known she would be the one arrive and had even known what her reaction would be. The seen had been staged to upset her. To make herself unconfident in her abilities. He had set her as a mark on his list of those that would be dealt away with, but he wasn't going to do that before he had tortured her.  
  
Mad Eye Moody had kept a sharp eye on her for a few days after. Supposedly other Aurors had had similar experiences and some of them had.had ended it shortly afterwards.  
  
She knew it was only a wait until deaths started if something wasn't done and with Fudge refusing to take action she had a feeling that was what was going to happen. The Ministry of Magic refused to see the truth. Refused to see that Voldemort had indeed risen from his previous state, had indeed acquired a new body, and was indeed on the road to reclaiming his former glory and then some. Naria was disgusted by Fudges blindness, by his incompetence. He could very well be then end of them all if the truth wasn't revealed to the public and if the government didn't start taking aggressive action.  
  
As far as she knew only one man had been able to see the truth and that was Albus Dumbledore. The man of course had always been able to see the truth, had always been able to look into the hearts of men and see what was true what was right. He had always had that ability to take one square look at you and know exactly what you were thinking. Albus had also been watching over the boy that was at the center of this whole thing, Harry Potter.  
  
She had been called; the Order of the Phoenix was going to make a move to prevent Voldemort an easy rise to power even if Fudge was to blind to see the truth. The giants were being called as allies, to prevent them going over to the Death Eaters. And moves were being made to keep the Dementors from going back to their natural allies. Others all over the continent and beyond were being drawn into the fray against Voldemort, but all of this was done quietly to keep Fudge from doing something stupid and putting an end to it. Fudge had taken the position that anything not done explicitly on his orders was a person a front. It was a dangerous view to take, but Cornelius Fudge had never been known as being brilliant.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
She looked around the aftermath of the seen, the second Dark Mark in as many days. To her hearts relief no deaths, not yet, but she knew that it wasn't going to be long. The Death Eaters were growing in power and in boldness. Soon the killing of Muggles would start and then it would enter the wizarding world.  
  
She was dressed in her Muggle outfit for fieldwork and she had a detective's badge that was authentic. This was what allowed her to work in the Muggle world and talk to victims without suspicion.  
  
The poor Muggle family was terrified. Clearly the Cruciatus Curse had been used. The husband was in no state to talk to anyone and he would probably remain that way for the rest of his life. The wife however, shaken and shocked was in a far better condition to speak.  
  
"Ma'am, my name is Olivia Berra. Can you tell me what happened here," she asked quietly as Muggle policy began doing preliminary work up of the seen. She was going to have to wipe their memory she knew. She hated that aspect of the job, but she understood the reasons why it was necessary. If the Muggles panicked. well she didn't even want to think about what would happen. Needless to say Voldemort would probably be even more egged on.  
  
"They.They.They came barging in here. All of them. They were wearing strangest clothes. Black robes, capes and the like. They were also carrying.carrying wands," the woman said in a shaky and shocked voice.  
  
"Wands," Naria repeated. "Are you certain?"  
  
"Yes, yes. They pointed them at my husband first and said some word that starts with a C."  
  
"Crucio?"  
  
"Yes. Yes, that's it. They pointed they're wands at him and said that word and he began shaking horrible, a look of extreme pain crossed his face and I knew what ever was happening to him. Well it was the worst thing I've ever seen. He fell to the ground and kept shaking and screaming.  
  
"Then they rounded on me. The leader. a tall man with a slippery voice. he pointed his wand at me and said the incantation again. I began shaking and the worst pain I ever felt crossed over me. The tall man called this quivering shorter man Wormtail and told him to apparate to their master. And. and then he stopped. A shorter, dumpier man who was balding had placed his hand on the other wizards and whispered something in his ear. The curse stopped. I begged he stop it on my husband as well but all they did was. was laugh.  
  
"When they finally left the effects stopped, but all that was left was that," she said indicating her husband.  
  
Naria looked at the woman. The feeling of great sorrow spread across her at what had happened to her and for what she was going to do her.  
  
"Officers come here," Naria said and the policy officers there gathered around her. She pulled out a wand and spoke, "Obliviate."  
  
Then she turned on the woman and spoke the charm again. Wiping her memory. An Implantation and Crime Scene Clean-Up Team was going to be needed. With in minutes they would be swooping in to repair the damage, or at least all they could repair.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
"Wormtail?" Remus asked quietly that night. They had spent most of dinner in quiet. Not speaking about her day.  
  
He had seen the look on her face when she had returned from work and had known not to ask, but then she spoke, some thing Naria rarely did when it came to her work. She had told him why she had worn that look and she had told him something else.  
  
She had told him about the first murder. He had had no idea that she had been there and he had no idea that was what she had first met after school. He had had no idea. And that was probably what hurt him most. The things she could not tell him. He knew it wasn't that she didn't trust him; it was that she didn't want to relive them. He knew this unequivocally because she had trouble even vocalizing those events.  
  
"Yes," she said with a cold detachment. Her eyes were slightly swollen from crying and this cold detachment was all that allowed her to survive. She wouldn't meet his gaze; rather she sat there staring at her plate.  
  
"Naria, there is nothing you could of done for those people. It isn't your fault," he said trying to make her feel better, trying to comfort her.  
  
"I've never been able to do anything for them. That's the problem," she said setting her fork down on her plate with a slight clank of metal on ceramic. "He's rising again and Fudge is too blind to see."  
  
"We still have men like Dumbledore," he reminded her calmly.  
  
"I am well aware," she said slightly more shortly than she had intended to. "I am also aware that they are far to few. If people don't open their eyes." She closed hers and clenched her fists tightly.  
  
"Speaking of Dumbledore, we both received letters from the school," he said quietly to her, ignoring her earlier tone. She was upset and it wouldn't do to provoke her into a fight. He lifted himself from the table and retrieved both his and hers.  
  
Handing hers to her she looked at it.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
Professor. how interesting. She slid a fingernail under the seal and opened it. Dumbledore had written it. She too knew the mans handwriting.  
  
Dear Auror Sojair,  
  
A position has opened up at Hogwarts that needs filling. Your experience with Spells and the Dark Arts has brought your name to my attention yet again.  
  
Naria, we need a spells teacher and we need one who knows the Dark Arts when they see one. Harry Potter is in more danger than ever before and he is the key Voldemort has been looking for. I need some one who can protect him. Even though our worst fears have come to pass, Harry still is both in grave danger, but also Voldemort wants to kill him for another reason, a reason not fully known to him, but instinctual none the less.  
  
The recent rash of Muggle tortures is only going to get worse and you know that. It will begin escalating to murder and if Voldemort gets his hands on Harry we will be lost.  
  
Please consider my offer, Naria. And remember as a member of the O of P. you have agreed to do all you can to stem evil and this will give you that opportunity.  
  
Sincerely Yours,  
  
Albus Dumbledore  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
Naria read it over one more time. "What did yours say?"  
  
"They asked if I would rejoin the staff as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," he answered her quietly. "And yours?"  
  
"The same. They want me to teach Spells. Are you going to take Dumbledore up on his offer?"  
  
"That depends," he thought about how to phrase the next part of what he was going to say. "That is it depends upon what you think."  
  
"I'm not going to make the decision for you."  
  
"And I'm not going to make it without you," he said quietly. "This decision affects both of us. I want a life with you and it won't do to make unilateral decisions that effect both of us."  
  
She stared at him for a second. He was rarely so frank. "I. I think you should take the position."  
  
"Will you?" he said quietly. He took her hand; gently he lifted her eyes to his by lifting her chin up.  
  
Her eyes met his, her breath coming slightly ragged, but still quiet. "I.I don't.I don't know, but I'm going to consider his offer. It may be my only way to stem Voldemort before he reaches full power," she answered a little shakily. Aurors were not a dime a dozen, but if Dumbledore was right this was probably a better use of her energy and skills.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
Tonight was the last night before the full moon and already Remus was beginning to get restless. He sat in the bed they shared, waiting for her to come join him. The Wolf always made it hard for him to sleep. Made it hard for him not to prowl, but he had learned to ignore it rather effectively.  
  
She stepped out of the bathroom wearing her little nightie. Her long locks cascading down to where they naturally hung. Her eyes, however, reflected a sadness that he felt she should never have to feel. She crawled on to her side of the bed and laid there looking up at the ceiling. He was about to say something, but she got there first, "I think I will take the offer. Will you?"  
  
"I think Harry is in grave danger and as his father's friend I think I have to," he answered looking down upon her from his seated position.  
  
She sat up and looked into his eyes. He did not flinch from her gaze even though it was penetrating and deep. It felt like she was looking into his soul. Then she leaned forward and kissed him. 


	2. September First

DISCLAIRMER: THANKS DUE TO J.K Once Again what is mine is mine a hers is hers. NO MONEY being made. And Credit to THING1 and stories about Remus and Katie.  
  
SEPTEMBER FIRST  
  
She knew it was rather unorthodoxed, teachers taking the train that left from platform nine and three quarters, but Dumbledore had requested they arrive this way. Professor Lupin had once been asked before to do this. It was because Sirius Black had been on the loose. Now it was because Voldemort was on the lose.  
  
Remus slept next to her. Like always, the full moon had taken a lot out of him. She had given him a potion for him to regain his strength, but even it was only so effective. She herself was rather tired. His howling had kept her awake and the occasional yelp had caused her to run out to his shed and look in through the only window to see if he had hurt himself. It caused to her to cry every time. Her eyes were still slightly puffy from crying last night. She leaned herself against the opposite wall of the compartment. Just as she began to drift into a rather fitful sleep she was reawakened by the noise of their cabin filling with children.  
  
"It's Professor Lupin," said a rather excited fifteen year-old male voice.  
  
"Who's that?" said a different male boy.  
  
"Another Professor," said a feminine voice in a tone near to condescending.  
  
"Oh how do you know?" said the second male voice questioning her.  
  
"Same way I knew last time, her bags," said the female in a rather matter- of-fact voice.  
  
"Well if you know every thing what does she teach, Hermione?" said the same boy in retort.  
  
"Well as far as I know there's only one position open and that's Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ron"  
  
"But there are two Professors," said the boy the girl had called Ron.  
  
"Ron, leave Hermione alone and let the Professors sleep you know what yesterday was," said the other boy.  
  
At that statement Naria's eyes snapped open. They knew. How though? And then the answer came to her, Snape. Snape had told the Slytherins. The three had noticed. She suddenly recognized them from the description Lupin had given her. This was Harry Potter and his friends.  
  
"Good morning Professor." Hermione said asking for her name at the same time.  
  
"Professor Sojair," she said with a kind smile spreading across her face. She could remember being that age. "Are you fifth years?"  
  
"Yeah. I'm Ron Weasley. This is Hermione Granger. And I'm certain you already know who this is," said Ron with a little bit of jealousy at the last part of the statement.  
  
The other boy started blushing and looked away from her gaze while elbowing Ron in the side, which made her smile only widen. "Weasley. Author Weasley is your father?"  
  
"Yes, Professor," the boy answered. "Do you know my father?"  
  
"I used to work in the Ministry."  
  
"What did you do for them?" the girl asked curiously.  
  
"I was an Auror," Naria answered quietly.  
  
"A real Auror," Ron said slightly excitedly.  
  
"Yes. A real Auror," Naria said with amusement. The word "real" was exceptionally mirth filled.  
  
"What do you teach?" asked Hermione.  
  
"I'm going to teach Spells and take over for Professor Lupin when he is unable."  
  
"Will Professor Lupin be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?" asked the other boy excitedly, speaking for the first time.  
  
"Yes, Harry," she said with a knowing voice. A smile spread across the boy's face that made look as if him were twelve.  
  
"Were you quite fond of the Professor?"  
  
"Yes. We tried to convince him to stay before he left," said the girl. Naria was silently glad they had not been successful. She would not have met him other wise. Then the girl continued, "Do you know Professor Lupin?"  
  
"Yes, we are acquainted," she answered with a secret smile.  
  
"Spells. Has Professor Vector left?" asked the girl quietly.  
  
"If he or she was your previous Spells teacher, then yes, I should think. Have any of you taken Spells?"  
  
"No, it's a fifth year and above class," answered Ron.  
  
"But we're all in it this year," said Harry.  
  
"Why is it a fifth year class?" she asked. She already new the answer, but felt like asking any ways, considering that these would be her new students.  
  
Hermione answered this one, "Because students need to learn how to use there wands first, that makes it easier to learns Spells."  
  
"Very good, Hermione. If this was class I'd give Gryffindor ten points."  
  
The girl wore a look that said she was very happy with her self and Ron sighed.  
  
"Do you know any Spells, Hermione?"  
  
"Oh yes. Last year I started practicing some I found in books in the Library," the girl answered.  
  
"Oh, what Spells have you learned?"  
  
"Just simple ones Professor. Like ones that make things enlarge and reduce."  
  
"Engourga and Reduca?" Professor Sojair asked her.  
  
"Yes, Madame."  
  
"Maybe I'll ask you to display them in class."  
  
Ron again sighed.  
  
"What is it Ron?"  
  
"Nothing, nothing, nothing," he muttered quietly. Already the boy was blushing and refused to meet her gaze.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
Ron didn't meet the woman's gaze, but still he found himself staring like he stared at Vella. He silently wondered to himself whether she was actually a Vella, but he wouldn't ask. His eye flirted up and down her form, paying particular attention to her long locks of blonde hair.  
  
Then, to his annoyance Hermione spoke indicated him, "He's wondering if your part Vella."  
  
The woman snorted a laugh, "Vella? Me?"  
  
Ron was already exceedingly embarrassed, but Hermione was just making it worse. "He has a particular fancy for them."  
  
"All men have a particular fancy for them, dear," the Professor said with an ever-broadening smile.  
  
This was going to be a long ride, Ron thought with grunt.  
  
"Even with their two sides, they are enticed. Ron, look at me." He forced himself to look into her deep blue eyes in which he felt he could lose himself. "Do you think I am a Vella?"  
  
"Um. Err. Yes," he said looking down at his feet.  
  
Again the woman gave a small laugh then spoke again, "Vella, no. No Ron, I'm not a Vella. But I am flattered you'd think that I was one of them."  
  
He looked over at Hermione who was smiling rather smugly and whispered into her ear, "Thanks allot, Hermione."  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
She was flattered, but she knew she was going to have to have in class and it was going to be hard for him to face her, she knew. Embarrassment did funny things to teenage boys. She found it funny that anyone would think her to be a Vella, but then she did have that effect on quite a few men. She was going to have to tell Remus to night. He would get a kick out of that she knew.  
  
For the rest of the train ride, the red haired boy kept his gaze very discernablely off of her.  
  
Midway to Hogwarts a boy, which the others called Malfoy, came to their cabin, but left when saw the two Professors. Two other boys followed him and Naria wondered absent-mindedly whether they were Slytherins. She had known their type, but she also recognized their names. She did not care if their fathers had been officially cleared, they had been guilty. She had known it then and Harry's story only fueled this view. They were the type that was clean as a whistle when a Professor was around, but when they weren't. well that was a completely different story. She would put good money on the fact that these boys would be well versed with all manor of curses, they were the future generation of Death Eaters, that is if they were allowed to become so.  
  
Around five the woman who brought the cart around for lunch and the like did her final rounds. The three brought a stack of Caldron Cakes and some assorted sweets. She eyed them as a mother eyes her children when they were doing something they really ought not do.  
  
"Don't you worry about running your appetite?" she asked quietly after she ordered herself a small stack of Caldron Cakes and two pumpkin juices.  
  
"No," Ron and Harry answered in unison as they began eating. Hermione was now reflecting a look of motherly disappointment.  
  
"Oh, I forgot your growing boys," she said with a small, knowing smile.  
  
Ron again looked exceedingly embarrassed and once again refused to meet her gaze.  
  
Naria however had her thoughts on other things. It had been nearly twenty- four hours since Lupin had eaten and he would need his strength. She gently nudged him quite a few times before he awoke with a start.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
Shaken out of sleep and still quite groggy, he surveyed his surroundings and the people he shared them with. He recognized the three youthful faces that sat across from him and smiled inwardly. Of course who else would he end up sharing a cabin with?  
  
"Afternoon, Professor," the three chimed. The smile that was reflecting on his inside soon found its place in reality.  
  
"Good day, Harry.Hermione.Ron," he said as he looked at each of them. He silently hoped the stem of questions that usually met him when this gang was around would not be so vigorous. Not today at least. He was still tired from his transformation. Then he focused his gave upon his fiancé with a small smile. "Yes?"  
  
"Caldron Cakes." It was more of a demand rather than a question and he knew the voice she had used meant not to question what she said, even though it was filled with its normal pleasantness. He took the few cakes she offered and one of the pumpkin juices she had gotten for him and ate.  
  
It felt good to have something in his stomach again. He had felt drained and now he felt the energy returning to his veins and with every bite he felt better, more alive.  
  
As he ate he also noticed something. Ron seemed to keep his eyes very intently from Naria's, but then they would dart back when he thought no one was looking. Suppressing a chuckle he cracked the faintest smile. He was going to have to ask what had happened latter tonight.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
As the train came to a stop at the Hogsmeade station, the students began to detrain, leaving the train full of their belongings, and piled into horseless carriages that began taking of for the castle. She watched the first years and their looks of fear as the followed Hagrid and silently she remembered her first day and how nervous meeting that man had been and how nervous she had been until she learned the truth about the way people were sorted into there houses.  
  
As she and Lupin piled into the carriage they would only share among themselves she sat expectedly waiting for a glimpse of Hogwarts for the first time in years. The castle was as she remembered it, ever imposing.  
  
A smile spread across her face at the idea of returning to this place. The last time she had taken such a ride it had been her last day as a Seventh- year. Now she was a teacher, who would have thought.  
  
As she climbed the stairs that lead to the main entrance, Professor McGonagall met them. Her normally severe look had been swapped with a smile. "Professors welcome back. You know the drill I trust, Remus?"  
  
"Yes. Yes. Yes. We wait for Dumbledore to introduce us in his normal introduction speech," Lupin answered.  
  
"Right. Well it's always great to have students return. Maybe you'll prove the Dark Arts position is not jinxed this year," she said with a knowing twinkle in her eye. "Well, must be off. Need to go frighten some more first years into a nervous twitter," she said this time giving Naria a knowing look.  
  
They entered the entrance hall and Naria paused for a moment, surveying the once familiar amidst the sea of students entering the Great Hall for the Feast. Their young faces were full of curiosity and wonder. There minds, millions of miles away from the here and now, that Naria could wistfully remember.  
  
After a quick reacquaintance with her old stomping ground she followed Remus back to the Staff room where they placed their cloaks. She straightened her clothing that had gotten a tad crumbled from the train ride and waited as she heard the excited first years enter the hall, probably in awe of what was to follow.  
  
This place was filled with memories for her. Most happy, but like all places it also had its share of unhappy and disappointing memories. At this particular moment she could only see the good of the situation, the light. At this particular moment she was happy to be back and to be back with the man she loved and was going to marry.  
  
It was like being a kid again. She saw the place in a whole new light. No longer was she Auror Sojair who had seen so many horrible things in the process of doing her job, things that caused her to wake up in the middle of the night with a start. Rather she was the girl Professor McGonagall had berated for turning the Professor's desk into a pixy that seemed to enjoy biting on the first day of class.  
  
"Miss Sojair turn it back this instant," Professor McGonagall said as the pixy went to bite yet another student, yet another Slytherin.  
  
Naria looked at the Professor through fits of giggles, along with the rest of the Gryffindor first years, but made no move to stop the pixy.  
  
"Detention, Miss Sojair," the Professor had said after she had ended all of Naria's fun. The desk was back to normal and the Slytherin that was bit was at that moment walking to the Infirmary. "Now then, can anyone else show me an example of Transfiguration? A little less.live one, perhaps."  
  
She had gotten detention with Filch and had not done something of that kind for about a week just to avoid ending up in that horrible mans office with those chains hanging from the ceiling. Silently at that thought, she wondered if Filch was still here. She could remember the man as well as his constant war against students and every happy impulse they had had. She knew the man to be squib and that was part of the reason he hated students so much. He had probably never gotten the chance to play the games the other students did, nor have the happy childhood they had. No, Filch seemed like the type of man who had never had a happy childhood. He had probably been punished or at least less loved if he had had siblings because of his condition and Naria knew that was enough to damage anyone. At the same moment, she also thought he was a bit more mean and menacing than was due and his cat. well his cat had no excuse. Evil beast, always looking to do the grunt work for its master.  
  
"Come on Naria. What are you thinking about?" came Remus's voice through her walk down memory lane.  
  
"Nothing important. Just remembrances of my time here, that's all," she answered him quietly. He looked tired as ever, but at the same moment life glinted with in his eyes, an unquenchable fire that showed his mischievous side even if he generally refused to let it out of his shell.  
  
Remus was generally a guarded individual when it came to emotion. He generally shied away from emotional outbursts and Naria knew why. He feared them, he feared "the Wolf" and he feared showing "the Wolf." She knew that it was with him all of the time just far subdued when he was in human form. She knew what Remus feared most of all was a lose of control, the lose of control he had once a month at the full moon. That was the reason the boggart turned into the moon when it saw him.  
  
That being said, Naria had gotten through some of this mans many walls. It was a considerable feat for Remus just to believe he deserved to be loved and Naria had finally gotten him to believe that. Originally, he had been so drawn back, afraid of what would happen if he let himself fall. He had been afraid of hurting her and afraid of the look in her eye that he was sure to find when she learned the truth. But Naria had always known the truth about him. She had known the fact after one month and she had not pitied him. No she felt a bit saddened that something would happen to such a good man, but it was not pity. Nor did she hate him. She was not revolted like others often were by his condition. After that first step he had taken, he began to rethink some of his aspects of his self-loathing and began to see that some of them were unfounded and as he began to see the truth he began to see how much people really cared for him, how much she really cared for him.  
  
Naria had refused to let him push her away. Tire as hard as he might in the beginning, she simply was not going to buy his stories. No, she had seen into him and she had seen the truth. She had seen how he cared for her and she had seen that was the reason he felt so afraid to let her in.  
  
"Place is full of them isn't it?" he asked her.  
  
"Uh-hu," she answered with a nod. "I was remembering my first day of classes here. I turned Professor McGonagall's desk onto a biting pixy that seemed to enjoy the taste of Slytherin blood," she continued with a mischievous smirk playing across her face.  
  
"It's to bad we weren't in the same year. I bet you could have had some fun with the Marauders."  
  
"But then Sirius wouldn't have set of the dung bombs in the girls dorms the first day of his second year."  
  
"I'm not so certain about that, he did always enjoy playing boyish tricks on girls."  
  
"And you didn't?" Naria said doubtfully with a bit of mirth still entangling her every word.  
  
"No, no, no," he said sarcastically  
  
"I bet you were always the word of reason," she said smirking again at him.  
  
"Always," he said the same smirk crossing his face as well. "I think the sorting is nearly finished. We should probably make our way."  
  
"To bad we missed the sorting this year. It was always my favorite part of the Feast."  
  
"Save your own sorting," he said quietly.  
  
"The hat took so long. I sat there for nearly two minutes with it on my head. It kept threatening to send me to Slytherin."  
  
"You know Harry had a similar experience," Remus said rather seriously to her as they made there way to the entrance of the Great Hall.  
  
"No, but it makes since. When Voldemort used that dreaded curse on him it makes sense that part of Voldemort would be transferred to Harry. He was the heir of Slytherin and now Harry has some that man's traits," Naria said quietly.  
  
"Why do you think it kept trying to put you in Slytherin?"  
  
"I wasn't hiding my mischievous side and I do enjoy power, just a tad. I've had to be careful in my job because of that predisposition. A little flaw like that is all Voldemort has ever needed to change the best of men," Naria answered in a knowing voice.  
  
"I can't really see you as a Slytherin nor a Death Eater," he said a little nervously.  
  
"You remember when I was Head Girl, the year before Lilly?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I enjoyed power then. it was my first real taste," she said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. "But then the key to not being turned is to realize you have those traits and to coin a term Mad Eye Moody often used.Constant Vigilance," she said, miming the man's voice in the last part of the statement. "Once we realize we have these traits it becomes harder to be subverted using that trait."  
  
"Yes. That does seem to be the case, now doesn't it? I think that little piece of wisdom I shall pass on to my classes. You know, they should have made you a Ravenclaw," he said, trying to lighten the serious nature of their conversation.  
  
"Posh. Me, a Ravenclaw? Ha."  
  
"You've always been exceedingly smart."  
  
"Yes, but Ravenclaws seem to be rather staunch to keeping the rules and I never was."  
  
"The only house I can't real ever see you being placed, no matter the circumstances, is Hufflepuff."  
  
"And I'm a bit glad of that."  
  
"Don't be so quick to judge them. They have a synergy most of the houses don't have and tackle problems using each member of their groups personal strengths to their fullest. I was quiet surprised by them my first year here," he said chiding her a bit.  
  
"I remember their synergy and that was probably one of their best traits.And I know I shouldn't keep up the old school prejudices," she continued looking at him raise his eyebrows.  
  
Just as she finished speaking, they heard Dumbledore begin his speech.  
  
"Welcome. Welcome. Welcome. It's a new year at Hogwarts. Hopefully your heads aren't to empty from summer and hopefully we can refill them. That being said I would like to introduce two new, or at least on of them is new, professors. Maybe this year we can put an end to the rumor of the Defense Against the Dark Arts position being jinxed." At that the students began to laugh and the Dumbledore began again, "I'm certain most of you will remember him, Professor Lupin."  
  
At that Remus entered the hall and was met by loud cheers, loudest from the Gryffindor side and surprisingly quiet from the Slytherin side.  
  
Dumbledore continued on with his speech, "Next, Professor Vector recently left us and so I would like to introduce your new Spells teacher, Professor Sojair."  
  
At the beckoning of her name another cheer passed through the crowd. She knew her name was reasonably well known from her job in the Ministry and was not completely surprised. Nor was she surprised by the fact that the Slytherins were a bit quieter. She had been responsible for a great number of their parents being charged with being a Voldemort supporter and she knew that an Auror made few friends among their kind.  
  
Dumbledore continued on after the applause died down and she had taken her seat next to Remus, "Now then, the caretaker Filch would like me to inform you that as normal the forest is of limits. This is mainly for first years to hear, but that being said a few certain older students would do to remember that as well." Naria noticed as Dumbledore looked at the Weasley twins, now in their seventh year. Then his gaze fell upon Potter and his friends. Naria could remember a few expeditions into that wood and could remember that none had boded well for her, but that didn't mean they weren't fun.  
  
"Quidditch trials will be held at the usual time and as usual if you are interested contact Madam Hooch. Also, the list of items that are band from the castle now includes acid pops due to an unfortunate accident last year. If you wish to view the list I am asked to remind you it is housed in Filch's office.  
  
"I think that's all the mindless droning for now. Let the feast begin," at that the golden plates filled with all kinds of foods. At that moment the room became a life with chatter and laughter.  
  
As the feast began, Naria marveled at how well she could see the students from this vantage point. A lot of the students in her year had theorized that the High Table probably had hawks view of all the students, hence the reason people were so often caught in their mischief and they had been right. Both Professors McGonagall and Snape had gotten up once or twice from their seats to discipline people from their houses. Naria noticed how mostly the Weasley twins bore the brunt of McGonagall's wrath. When Snape returned to his seat he gave a disgusted little look at Remus and then turned the conversation to a sore issue. "Will I be making your potion this year?" Snape seethed at Remus, reminding everyone at the table that he was not normal.  
  
Dumbledore however deflected this question, "No, Severus. Naria has some talent with potions brewing."  
  
"Have you any experience brewing this particular potion," Snape said to her in his menacing whisper.  
  
"Yes, Professor Snape," she answered meeting his glare with an even stare until Snape broke it and began glaring at Remus again. Naria silently fingered her ring under the table to be certain it was there.  
  
"Just as long as he gets his potion."  
  
Naria noticed how Remus reddened a bit under Snape's glare, but he  
refused to be  
brought down to the Potion Master's level. Naria was glad that at  
least some one at this table was an adult.  
  
After that little bit of posturing, the conversation turned to more pleasant matters. Minerva then asked a question she had not be quite prepared for, "Have you set a date?"  
  
"Excuse me?" she said calmly to be certain that McGonagall was asking what she thought she was asking.  
  
"Have you set a wedding date?" the other woman rephrased the question as to be certain there was no misunderstanding.  
  
"Um. no," Naria answered quietly.  
  
"We didn't think it wise to set a date considering the current situation," clarified Remus smiling at Naria softly.  
  
At that Snape's jaw completely dropped. He stood there with a gaping mouth until he recovered himself, a look of shock still on his face. Naria got a perverse pleasure at shocking the man's sensibilities. She knew it was childish, but that really was not a deterrent.  
  
"A wise choice," the woman said to Naria with a smile.  
  
Once again she fingered her ring for comfort. She did not like being the center of attention at this particular moment, especially since Professor Snape's look at changed to a cold and disgusted glare, no longer focused at Remus, but at her. Naria broke the man's stare, rather on edge and fingered the ring yet a third time. It was becoming a security blanket at this meal. She silently hoped that that would not be the case in the future. Under the table she felt a hand grasp hers. She immediately recognized the hand and began to calm down at Remus's touch and then returned his smile.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
"I wish he didn't do things like that," Naria stated as they walked down to the Staff Wing.  
  
"Just ignore Snape. Who cares what he thinks?" Remus advised. "Sayseame Openais," he said to the Suit of Armor, the first step out of many that would allow them to gain access to this well guarded area.  
  
"It's not that I care what that git thinks, it's that I don't like being glared out all evening. Although, I do have to admit I enjoyed the look that spread across his face when Minerva asked about us," she said as she rapped once on the large door that allowed entrance to all of the separate teachers chambers. Idly Naria thought it would be exceedingly fitting if Snape's chambers were in his Dungeons.  
  
"I have to admit, his glare does get tiring." he said, as they walked to the end of the corridor and stopped at where the door was. Again Remus preformed the Sayseame Openais Charm.  
  
Naria surveyed their set of rooms. It was even larger than their little Cornish cottage. Naria was oddly reminded of her dorm when she was a girl in Gryffindor. The four-poster they would share was even covered with the old red velvet. Naria knew she should unpack, but didn't feel up to it. Nay, dinner had made her quite tired, but she still wanted to tell Remus about Ron.  
  
As she pleated her hair into a braid and got dressed in her sleep things Naria came out of the bathroom to find Remus already comfortable waiting in bed for her. As she walked over and got into the bed she spoke, "You'll never guess what one of the students thought I was."  
  
"What?" he asked with some interest.  
  
"A Vella. Can you imagine?" Naria said.  
  
A knowing smile spread across Remus's youthful face, even with his graying hair, "Ron?"  
  
"Yeah. How did you know?"  
  
"Hermione writes to me on occasion and told me about his particular fancy for them. Plus Ron was looking at you when he thought no one was looking and then looking away abruptly. I personally can see the resemblance," he said with a smile.  
  
"Ah, did you once think the same?" she asked for earlier his voice had hinted at something that went unsaid in the last part of the statement.  
  
"Yes, when I first saw you and looked at your lengths of hair I thought you could possibly be part Vella."  
  
"Who is she?" Remus asked quietly to a friend at the Ministry. "She" had to be the most beautiful woman he had seen in a long time. She had poise and grace about her that was exceedingly attractive. Also her lengths of silky golden blond hair created such a light aura around her.  
  
"That is Auror Sojair, she's marked to be a candidate for the Minister's position. She was one of the top Aurors during You-Know-Who's rise. Now she leads the Ministry of Magical Law Enforcement. Basically, she's the lead Auror. With Mad Eye Moody's retirement they were hard pressed to find some one. Naria, over there, didn't have all the credentials the position required, but she had experience and good recommendations, so she was the logical choice. She certainly has proved herself though. She has personally been responsible for most of the captures of the Death Eaters," the man said.  
  
"Is. is she part Vella?"  
  
"I don't believe so. But I can see the resemblance."  
  
Right as the man finished speaking, Naria turned to him. Their gaze locked and he felt electricity through out him. It was one of the most enjoyable experiences and immediately he wanted to get to know this woman, and then he remembered "the Wolf" and he held off. He held off as he always held off.  
  
He then thought to the night he had asked her to marry him while he was on his little trip through memory lane.  
  
This was falling, but for the first time in his life, Remus allowed everything to come rushing forward. Joy, fear, giddiness, and bitter sorrow all seemed to rush through him at once. There was still the nagging fear that this was wrong, that if he finally let go, and let her in, that he would hurt her. He couldn't bear that. But that was a maybe, and he knew, he absolutely knew, that walking away from her would hurt her, more than anything else he could ever do.  
  
He stared at her intently. The back of his throat burned and the dull ache he had felt in his chest all day had suddenly turned into a sharp pain. Some detached part of his mind thought 'how odd - it really does seem to feel like there is a hole in you'. Even wives' tales and proverbs had their basis in truth. He would not be the first, nor the last, to feel like this. He needed her so much it hurt. Keeping her away from him was too much.  
  
He looked at her uncertain for the first time in his life. He did not know how to say what he had wanted to say for some time now. Long ago, okay maybe not that long ago, but certainly not recently he had made the first step towards letting her into his heart and now he was going to take an even longer leap of faith. He was going to leap and either he'd fall or fly. He was going to ask her to spend the rest of her live, hopefully, with him. He was going to ask her hand in marriage.  
  
She watched him quietly, never changing her gaze, never changing her expression. Her face was closed, and still. She regarded him will such studied composure, but he saw in her eyes that the face was not showing anything of the struggle playing in her mind. Why am I doing this, he thought. Why are we doing this?  
  
Her pain was as real as his, her fear was as deep, and it just came from a different source. Her fear was that he would leave, that he would decide she was not worth the risk, but she was worth risking everything for. A risk he should have taken long ago.  
  
His breath came as a painful shudder, but he decided that she was really worth this risk, the largest risk he thought could be made, to place his heart in another's hands and hope for the best.  
  
As he stared at her he made the decisive move. Kneeling before her he took one last breath before the plunge. He took her hand in his. Not only for to signify the emotional significance of his next statement but also to make certain she was really there, that he wasn't dreaming. With that little reassurance he felt his heart began to beat a tad slower. Meeting her gaze he spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, "Naria, for the longest time I have been afraid to love and afraid to be loved. You. you have shown me not only that I can love but also that I am disserved of being loved. When I'm with you I feel my heart lighten, my worries fade away. When we are apart I feel like with you goes a part of me. What I'm trying to say." he paused and removed the ring case from his pocket, "a bit poorly I'm afraid to say, is that. is that I want to spend the rest of my days with you and no other. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"  
  
Tears were streaming down her face, now he began to doubt. The silence, the pregnant atmosphere was killing him. He was terrified. All the old fears came screaming at him. Silently he wondered, "Oh God, this is it. This will end it all. It's been so nice pretending, so safe, so sweet. I couldn't help pretending it could be real. Just for a little while, I needed to steal some sense of loving another person and being loved. It just felt so nice."  
  
Finally, just as he felt he would die, she spoke, "Remus. I.I.Of course I'll marry her."  
  
At that statement he felt like he was floating on air, like his entire soul had been lightened. He wrapped her in his arms as if he would never let her go. He buried a hand in her long beautiful hair and they stood like that for a few minutes. "That is if I'm still breathing," she said with her head against his chest. Embarrassed he pulled her away allowing her to breath again. A smile spread across her face. He took her hand in his again. Removing the ring from its little box and placed it one her slender and beautiful finger  
  
That night they spent in each other's arms in silence. Their silences had always been as rich as their conversations. In the silence he came to the realization of how right this was and he no longer had a reason to fear this. He took her face in his hands and he kissed her passionately, fully experiencing the moment.  
  
He looked over at the woman next to him. She had already fallen asleep next to him. A small smile spread across his face as he looked at her sleeping form. He felt oddly at peace with her next to him, this peace soon fell into the peace of dreams and sleep.  
  
And with that September First came to an ending. 


	3. A Push in the Right Direction

A Push In The Right Direction  
  
DISCLAIMER: YOU KNOW THE DRILL TO J.K WHAT IS HERS AND TO ME, MY CHARACTERS AND PLOT. NO MONET BEING MADE!!!!  
  
That morning she woke with a renewal of energy. Today was her first day of class. The morning seemed to fly away before she even realized. With gathering her things, bidding Remus a far-well, and catching a bite, Naria felt that no more than ten minutes had past as she entered her class room when more than three hours had.  
  
For the first time, she surveyed her classroom. Her desk sat at the front of the room and next to it sat a chalkboard. In front of her desk were banks of seating along the sides leaving and area open in the middle of the classroom.  
  
This classroom brought back a memory or two. Professor Inheayis had taught Spells when she had been a girl. It had always been one of Naria's more enjoyable classes. She had had some special aptitude in this class and had been promoted to the sixth year class for fifth year was mainly for getting used to the idea that magic could be done with out tools on a regular basis. Even in the sixth year class she had fast overshadowed most of the class and at the end of the year she had been first in her year and in the sixth year classes as well.  
  
She remembered the ease in which free style magic came to her. The ability to call things to herself had always been rather easy and that was the type of thing that mainly fifth years did. The week she had spent in the class had felt like she was back in her first year and had turned to trouble making. Luckily for her, the teacher had not seen this as most would, but had rather seen it as the call for help. Her boredom had been suffocating her in the class and the teacher saw the truth. Naria silently wished she could be as perceptive a teacher as Professor Inheayis.  
  
Ex-Auror Sojair knew that her aptitude with spells was unique. It was an upper level class and even those in it were hard pressed to master it. Though Naria put little stock in Divinations, Spells was akin to the subject in as much that the students needed some natural abilities in the subject to succeed in it even just a little. Many powerful wizards and witches had little hope when it came to mastering this difficult subject. That being the case, Hogwarts still taught the subject to every incoming fifth year student, but beyond fifth year the students had to show aptitude or they would find their time wasted in the class. Professor Sojair appreciated the fact that they did require it of fifth years. She may have to be less stanch on grading, but it was a valuable experience even to those who were not truly gifted in it. Those who could remember even the most basic lessons found it useful. For example, Naria had known Aurors who were separated from their wands and though they were not far away, they had been able to call them to themselves, thus not perishing in the battle that had originally separate them from their wand. These Aurors were of course in the minority. Most people become frustrated by spells and quickly forget even those basic lessons, which ever witch and wizard should be able to succeed at, lest they be squib.  
  
With purpose she moved to the front of the room and to her desk. She placed her things down on the desk and made it her own. Her quill, she placed on the desk and a roll of parchment; upon this roll of parchment was the names of her first class. She had been happily surprised that her first class would be with the Gryffindor fifth-years. Placing a few more things from her case out she surveyed her new space. She knew there was a side office that was to be her office, but she just had not gotten that room into a state of order.  
  
Next, Naria's attention went to her lesson plan.  
  
After the end of breakfast a few students began to pile into her class and with in five minutes it was nearly filled. And as the bell rang the last few students filed into the room. She let them retrieve their things, parchment, quills, and most pulled out their wands. She made her way to the front and began.  
  
"Morning, class. My name is Professor Sojair," with that statement she magicked a chalk into action without a wand. As the name was scrawled onto the board in cursive. Naria continued. "As I'm certain you all know. this is Spells."  
  
As Naria announced the name of her class one last student came into the classroom. She knew who this boy was just from the description Remus had given her. "Neville.?"  
  
"Sorry, Professor. I got lost."  
  
"Very ease to understand. Please, in the future, arrive on time," she said to the boy with a gentle smile on her face. She was aware of how Snape treated this boy and she felt that extending a little more patience and understanding would be in order. "As I was saying, my name is Professor Sojair and I will be your Spells teacher through your exploration of how magic can be used in a slightly more abstract context. If you have a wand out on your desk could you please raise your hand." A good half or more of the class raised their hands. "Among those who have they're hands raised could you tell me when we will be using those wands in class?"  
  
"For Spells Professor," answered a boy named Dean.  
  
"Now those who do not have their wands out, could you please tell me why that is?"  
  
Immediately Hermione Granger raised her hand high in the air. "Yes, Miss Granger?"  
  
"Spells is the study of magic that is preformed with out devices that hone ones magical power," the girl answered rather proud of herself.  
  
"Correct. Ten points to Gryffindor. Now then I could not have stated that better myself. So every one who has their wands out would you please put them away. We won't be using them in this class so it is not necessary for you bring them here.  
  
"Through out this year I will be introducing you to the basics of Spells and how they are preformed. Now then does any one know any Spells?'  
  
Again Hermione raised her hand, but she also noticed Neville uncertainly raise his hand into the air. She called on Neville rather than Hermione. "Yes, Neville?"  
  
"Well. well.the Aceshio spell," the boy answered uncertainly.  
  
"What does the Aceshio spell do?"  
  
"It.it.it is equivalent to the Accio charm. It calls things to you."  
  
"Can you demonstrate this spell?"  
  
"Y. ye. yes, Professor Sojair," Neville said his voice becoming even less confident, if that was possible. He stood up and focused on a book on the other side of the room, "Aceshio Book." With his out stretched hand the book came to him. Naria could tell that he was as surprised as anyone else that this had actually worked.  
  
"Very good, Neville. Ten points to Gryffindor." As the boy sat down, back in his embarrassed state she continued, "Now then anyone else?"  
  
This time people were more confident and began to raise their hands. Towards the end of their time together Naria again brought the class to a focus. "Spells are very advanced magic. That is part of the reason only fifth years and above study them. They give you far more latitude than Charms, but they also have their drawbacks. They have their own unique dangers. For one, they can completely drain you if you do not know what you are doing. Through out this year we will learn the fine art of spell casting. When to and when not to use them. And most importantly, the correct way to use them.  
  
"Now then, I know you all hate it, but I think as a teacher I have the duty to assign a bit of home work, so I will," with that there was an erg from the class, "But I will give you this reprieve, most of this class will be in class work so as long as you a pay attention in class I am certain you will get all and more from this class.  
  
"Right, Homework? I want a single roll essay on the basics of spells and another on the inherent danger of spell casting," with that there was another erg, "Due on the next class."  
  
"Also next class we will begin double sessions with the Slytherin fifth years," again an erg. "Well, I do believe the bell will be ring so off you go," Naria ended her class.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
"At least she's nice," Ron said.  
  
"The Slytherins won't be," Harry pointed out.  
  
"Two rolls of parchment?" said Dean exasperated to Neville. Neville, however, seemed not to care so much about that.  
  
"She treated me as if I wasn't Squib."  
  
"That's because you aren't a Squib, Neville," Hermione interjected. She hated the way he was bullied by Snape. Neville may not be as talented as some of the others students, but she knew Neville would find his place.  
  
"Nearly," he said a tad defiantly.  
  
As he finished his statement the Professor's voice called from thee classroom, "Oh, wait. Neville could I have a word with you?"  
  
Neville turned and returned to classroom a stripe of color blazed his cheek. "Yes, Professor?" his voice came, again in its unsteady timber.  
  
"Neville, I overheard your conversation in the hall."  
  
"Yes, Pro.Professor Sojair," he was now certainly embarrassed.  
  
"Would you please sit?" Naria said quietly, indicating a chair by her desk. As she looked at the boy who refused to meet her eyes she then decided to see if she make the atmosphere a tad social. "Tea?"  
  
"Yes, Ma'am."  
  
With that Naria summed her kettle and prepared a spot of tea for herself and the boy. As she sat down and handed him his cup, she asked what had been on her mind, "Do you really believe that?"  
  
"Do I really believe what, Ma'am?"  
  
"That you are a Squib," Naria clarified and then sipped her tea.  
  
Neville hesitated before he answered, "Yes." As soon as his answer had escaped his lips his eyes went down trodden again. "I'm told so every day and so far it seems to be true."  
  
"I want to know who calls you that."  
  
"Every lesson, Snape practically yells it to the class. He practically announces that I'll never be talented at anything. That I'm destine to be Filch. He's not the only teacher that thinks so. Other say it in fewer words, but I know that's what they think. They either give me easier tasks or they shake their heads at my failures. That's all they see when they look at me and that's all you will see eventually when you look at me," it all came pouring out. It seemed to be that Neville had held this in for far longer than any one should.  
  
"Professor Snape. Neville, I want you to ignore what Snape says about you. It isn't his place. And I want to tell you something. You are anything, but Squib. You showed that today. Maybe your skills simply lay in Spells. All wizards have their skills. Some never master Spells and others. it's their only talent. I can see talent in you, Neville. You simply need discover what that talent is for yourself. One day I know you will be a skilled wizard and you will have your strengths. I also know they will always over shadow your weaknesses and you must remember. we all have them. I my self could never understand divination. It seemed to me they were making it all up. That you simply predict the worst and see what sort of shock value you get." As she was speaking, Naria silently wondered to herself if his lack of aptitude for magic others mastered so easily was because of the traumatic events in his life.  
  
Neville noticed the soft smile that spread across her face. He noticed the twinkle in her eye and the truth seemed to be what she had said, or at least he thought so.  
  
"Thank you, Professor Sojair."  
  
"Of course. If you ever need to talk my door is all ways open. Now then I do believe it is lunchtime. If you don't want to miss it, of you go."  
  
"Ma'am, I heard. I heard a.a.a rumor," Neville stuttered.  
  
"I'm not generally in support of rumormongering, Neville, but what did you hear?" she asked as she looked down upon him.  
  
"That. that you knew my parents," he looked back down at his feet. His voice was chocked. He wanted to say so much, but it simply wouldn't come.  
  
"It is true. I knew your father from my work with the Ministry," she answered quietly. She remained reserved to this weighted question.  
  
"What. what were they like? I mean, what were they like before.before. Well before you know?" Neville said quietly. No longer did he keep his eyes down trodden, but rather he met her gaze evenly. There was a strange determined quality in his gaze. They glinted with tears that had sparkled down the boys face. So long he had wanted to know that, which no other could or would tell him. His gaze held her where she sat, demanding an answer.  
  
"Your. your father was a good man. He saw Voldemort for what he was before any other. He also paid unduly for that. He. he was very perceptive. I don't know as much about your mother. I do however know one thing. your father loved her very much." Neville looked up at her again, but what would be said would not leave his lips. "Now then I think that's enough today," Naria's eyes then looked upon her watch. "Its rather late, most of the food will be gone. Do you want me to conjure something up for lunch? It would be a pity to have to wait till dinner for food, especially since you have potions."  
  
"Thank you, Ma'am," Neville said absent-mindedly. With that she magicked a plate of sandwiches for the two of them to share. She noticed how he hardly ate a bite, but she could understand. Neville's thoughts weighed heavily on him.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
Neville remembered that night all to well. He had been only one, but the screams resonated through his mind. First his mother. Hers were probably the worst. He remembered as she pleaded for help and for mercy. He remembered this only egged them on. He saw and he heard. The howls were probably the worst thing he had ever heard.  
  
When it was over Neville was left to his grandmother and his parents to mental ward. They had been driven insane by the Crucio Curse and they would never be the same thing.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
Naria looked at the boy. He was so engrossed in thought, engrossed in memory. Naria watched as his eyes glazed over.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
"Help me. Help me," she scream. Again and again, she screams. The piercing scream cutting through the night.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
She shook him hard. This was becoming dangerous, "Neville. Neville."  
  
The boy looked up at her, disturbed. A soft stream of tears ran down his face. The glisten down his face, a bright streak of shining, glinting light.  
  
"Tell me."  
  
He looked at her unable to speak or unwilling to speak. He stood up promptly and spoke, "Sorry I have detained you, Professor Sojair."  
  
As the boy left Naria called back to him, "Remember, my door is open. "  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
That evening she was still consumed with what had been said. Neville should have never been separated from his parents, just like a hundred or more other children, as well. She hated the man responsible for that more than she had ever despised another. Voldemort was an evil man and now he was on the rise again.  
  
She knew where she stood. She had always known, when it came to this most basic and most complicated of decisions, where she stood. She knew that when it came time either take a stand or step into line she knew she would make a stand. She knew that no matter, what, she had seen the truth of Voldemort. She knew the evil the man and his supports were capable of and she knew the price for not standing up, just as she knew the price for standing up, but comparatively and humanly speaking the price of ones soul is worth more than one's life. The price of being cursed would always be worse than death.  
  
She had once wondered where she would stand. That had been during her days at Hogwarts. She knew that she probably would not fold, but she would never be certain. After that first day on the job, her position had been secured. She knew what they were capable of, things she would never be able to do. She was fundamentally different from these people. She knew the value of life and limb. She also valued sentient life with a reverence they seemed to not understand, Muggle and Wizard alike.  
  
She also knew resistance was possible. She had resisted even with one of the unforgivable curses upon her, directing her actions. She had resisted and fought. She had escaped once before. She had not turned, nor had she done what could not be said even when she should not have been under her control. At that moment, her resolve had almost failed her. She had wondered whether anything could really be done about Voldemort and at that moment that thought almost won over. Fortunately for her she had remained strong to the ideals of the Order of the Phoenix. She had kept her convictions in the worst of time and in the best of times and she knew this round around would not be much different. She was still haunted by the deaths she could not prevent.  
  
She however, did fear. She understood that which was Voldemort far better than anyone should. She had even met him. The encounter still haunted her. It had been when Snape had still been working for the Dark Lord. Their promise had come full circle. Next time she had certainly not been so lucky, nor the next. As Voldemort rose further, rose to his near pinnacle of power, she was being stalked. She did not know whether it was for Voldemort's enjoyment or some one else until later.  
  
On one of the many assignments she had been sent on as an Auror she had been caught.  
  
The Death Eaters, they had waited for her. They had been taunting her for months and it was slowly getting to her. She could only take so much death and dieing. She only could take so much of those who had been tortured out of their minds. She could only take so much of their half blanketed threats and innuendo. She could only take so much.  
  
She had entered the residence expecting two things, more death and more taunts. But no she had only found one of those things. She had found more death, yes. This time no taunt waited for her. No, rather those who left the taunts remained for her. She hadn't had time to react. Before the wand had even become level, the curse was placed upon her.  
  
She felt the pain and she knew instinctively what had happened. She knew that in all likelihood by the end of the night she would lay dead like so many before her. But no, not such an easy fait awaited her. As soon as the curse had been applied, she fell to the ground and the curse had been broken. She looked into the eyes of those who had cursed her. They wore long, flourishing, black capes. Dark as night described them. Mostly she had not an inkling about who they were, but one stood out in her mind.  
  
She stared at him. She recognized him from the gray of history, from the fog that was the past. He had been at Hogwarts when she had been there. What was his name? Snape! She now remembered him. He had been a Slytherin with the usual bad attitude who enjoyed harassing a couple of other students from her house who were a year younger. Once he had asked her to the Yule Ball. Normally she would not have accepted, but she felt that she could not turn him down for some odd reason. She had never found herself taken with him, but she had known that he was taken with her. A sickening smile that looked more like a grimace crossed his face. A cruel cackle entered the room as their eyes locked for the briefest of seconds. "So this is why you cannot show me complete loyalty," came a high voice. It was the sort of unnatural voice that made shivers run up your spine. "This Auror is why?"  
  
She looked at Snape as he heard his masters voice. She could tell that a shiver had run up his spine as well. He was afraid of Voldemort. That was not really surprising, Voldemort was as hard on his supports as he was on his enemies. When Snape did not answer the owner of the voice stepped forward. He observed the source of one of his most loyal support's failings. Naria was afraid, more afraid than she had ever been before. She did not want to look into his face. She did not want to see that which she had fought. She was afraid that even a glimpse of this man would be her undoing. "You hunt me Auror Sojair. You haven't even seen the face of your enemy. Look at me," Voldemort ordered. When she did not comply, he pointed his wand at her and placed the Imperious curse upon her. She heard the whispering in the back of her mind. It called to her to do as it said, but she knew her thoughts. She resisted. Becoming frustrated with its affects he then placed the Cruciatus curse upon. Once again her body writhed in pain.  
  
As Voldemort spoke these words, the incantation that spurred one of the worst experiences, a look spread across Snape's face. This had been more than he had clearly bargained for. This only made Naria's experience worse. Voldemort was using her torture as a lesson for this man. He was trying to rid him of all human emotion. Trying to rid him of this like care and compassion.  
  
She could tell Snape was close to reacting, close to stopping this. Just as she knew this she knew he was afraid, afraid of the man who he had pledged loyalty to.  
  
As the curse finished, Voldemort spoke again, "My young servant, here, has only been able to give me obedience, not loyalty. He is far more loyal to you then I would of thought. You should see him squirm as I tortured you. Its quite humorous."  
  
Naria was not amused. In fact, she was furthest from still keeping her eyes down trodden through out his speech.  
  
"He's quite taken with you. I don't see why, your just like any of the other witches and wizards who have faced me, bold until the fact."  
  
Naria looked up in anger. He was taunting her. He knew she had been close to many a great wizard and witch who had fallen at his hands. She was shocked by what she saw. Voldemort looked as if he was part snake, with glowing red eyes and nostrils reminiscing of a snakes as well, with only the slightest slits comprising them. She was afraid, but undeterred., "They were far greater men and women than you. Perhaps your loyal "servant" has a heart," she spat at him.  
  
"Oh, I truly doubt he has a heart. I think I've trained that out of him by now. If anything is left of it, it is because of you," he coolly retorted. "I guess I was wrong though. Have you a spine, unlike the others, unlike even my own supporter? Perhaps you are made of strong stuff than I thought. It's a pity you could not be turned. You could of raised above even your highest imagination. The power that is offered is limitless."  
  
"At what price? The destruction of all that is worth living for?"  
  
"Power has a price, like anything else."  
  
"It would not be true power. If I sided with you I could only ever rise so far," she snapped back.  
  
"It would be more power than you have now."  
  
"Yes, but what if I don't seek power above all else?" she said coolly.  
  
"I know the human heart just as I know your heart. I know that to seek power is human."  
  
"Am I human?"  
  
"Of course you are. Or at least wizard and muggle are still related closely enough that we have similar drives. There is little point in lying to me. I know your heart far better than you yourself do."  
  
"If I had sought power like that I would have been placed in Slytherin," she said in response.  
  
"Oh, but you know as well I that you nearly were. Did the sorting hat not say that you had potential. The potential to display a very bright future indeed? Did the hat not say that they could teach you the skills you needed? The only reason you weren't placed in that house is because you refused to see your own potential. You refused to let the house do its job. It did what it did only because you demanded that it bend to your will."  
  
"The hat understood 'choice'. I 'choose' not to be placed in that house. I saw my potential did not lie in the dark arts."  
  
"Oh, but haven't we proven that false. You know as well as I that the 'dark arts' were what drew you to be an Auror."  
  
"I'm an Auror to stop people like you."  
  
"You're an Auror because you are fascinated by the power they provide. I know you've used the unforgivable curses. I know you nearly killed with Avada Kedavra ."  
  
"That was along time ago and the whole point is that I didn't. I choose not to kill just as you 'choose' to kill."  
  
"I do not deny my choices. I have made them without regret."  
  
"But I wonder if your 'loyal' servant feels the same way?" Naria held his gaze. She knew she was going to die. That fact was undisputed, but she wasn't going to go out begging for mercy that would never come. If she did, what would be the point of her life? Her fight would have been pointless if she gave up now.  
  
"Won't beg from mercy?" he said reading her thoughts. "We'll see about that. Maybe if you won't, Severus, here, will?"  
  
Naria wasn't afraid of what was to come. She could will away some of her sensation of pain. It would be far worse if she called out and so she set herself against that above all else. As pain washed over her a second time she clenched her jaw shut tighter than she had done before. As her body wreathed in pain, she detached herself from the moment and focused on the man for whom she was an example. As the torture lasted longer, she watched Snape beginning to break.  
  
The kid who had once suffered from the same superiority complex as any other Slytherin was discovering that he had a heart and this was killing him. He could hardly handle it. Already, his face was streaked with a stream of glinting tears. She knew he would break. She could see the wreathing of her tiny body getting to him, but it would not be her principles sacrificed.  
  
Finally after what had seemed like an eternity, in reality only the flicker of a few heart beats time had actually occurred he called out, demanding that this be stopped, demanding that her suffering end, "Stop!"  
  
Voldemort's high pitched laughed filled the space of the small muggle house, but he did not let up. Evenly, he kept his wand leveled at her. "I demand Loyalty. With her I will never have loyalty from you."  
  
Snape was not put back in line by these words however; moving from his place in the circle of Death Eaters that encompassed her he stood next to his master. Looking at her and then towards his master. Naria could see the beginnings of a plan formulating in his mind, details taking shape. She saw the spark in his eye, the spark of betrayal. She knew before he did it what he was going to . He lunged on to her, protecting her from the curse that Voldemort placed upon her. He then began wreathing in pain. Voldemort pulled away his wand and looked at Naria.  
  
She felt exhausted, but listened to what the snake man said, "I told you he could never give me loyalty." Then addressing his comments to Snape he spoke again, "Kill her."  
  
Snape laid puddled on the floor. His robs ensnaring him and he did not comply, either from the pain or the weariness of making the decision itself. "Kill her," Voldemort venomously spat again.  
  
Snape began to pull himself off the floor. Standing again he pointed the wand at her and then he looked at his master.  
  
"KILL HER!"  
  
"She could be far more valuable to us alive, Master," Snape said quietly. Not only did he not want her dead, but this was the simple truth of the matter.  
  
Voldemort narrowed his eyes as he looked to her; thoughts racing, thoughts calculating. Could this Auror be of value to him? Could she even though she refused to let go of her petty compassion for Muggles and all?  
  
"She has valuable connections with in the Ministry," Snape said quietly. Snape could clearly see the same process occurring that she was, could see the same wheels turning, could see Voldemort coming to the same conclusions.  
  
"You remain yet 'obedient' to me," Voldemort hissed. "But your loyalty is hers. Fortunately for her, your obedience is enough to save her this night. Wingardium Leviosa," Voldemort pointed his wand at her and her form rose in the air. It would have been pointless to have her try to walk; her body still wreathed on occasion from the pain that had been afflicted upon it. She may have been able to block out some of the pain, but now she was not only hurt, but also exhausted and afraid. Her limp and nearly lifeless body floated. Conscience remained with her for only so long. The question that flooded her mind was what was to be done with her. The Dark Lord would only keep her so long before he tired with her, she knew. In all likelihood, death would makes it call upon her soon, but it was latter than she had originally thought. A few seconds was still a few seconds, and with those. A life time could be lived. or ruined. Her decision would be what made or broke her.  
  
In her head, before her reasoning had left her, she had began calculating a plan. She could be given all the chance she needed to escape; unlikely, but if the opportunity presented itself she certainly would not baulk at it. She also knew that Snape could very well be her key to survival and she was going to have to try to play him for all he was worth. Maybe enough to unlock her from her fait, but of that she could not be certain.  
  
Life was a gamble. With every breath you take you risk. Risk was dangerous, but it could also be the only way to survive. Non-action at times could be far more risky to ones health and well being, though.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
When she woke up, she found herself in a cell. Her whole body throbbed, but especially her head. She had woken with a start from a dream, a horrible dream. Her breath came as a ragged torent as she sucked up as much of the sweet, life-sustaining air. Then it dawned upon her. the images she had seen had not been those from a dream. No, they had not come from an over active sub-conscience. They had been remembrances of the previous night.  
  
That night had seemed like a nightmare. It had not seemed possible for it to be the truth, but apparently she was wrong. Not only was it the truth, the fog of memory and pain had at least obscured a part of her reality. They had made it easier to bear yesterday, but today there was no such luck. Naria received both memory and pain full on.  
  
She sucked in another breath of air and another burst of reality. The air in this room was not sweet. No, it was anything but. It was dank and musty, like the air of a cellar. The room was overly wet and had never been given the chance to dry out. Where ever it was, she decided that it must not have very good ventilation. She licked a finger and with her hand she felt the air and sure enough there was no current running through it, no indication of fresh entering or exiting this place.  
  
As Naria's eyes focused she saw her surroundings. An eight by eight room. Dark as night. A rickety bed sat in a corner. That had been where they had dumped her. From the ceiling she could see chains and realized what this place must have been.  
  
She sat in a dungeon. Its darkness designed to repress the lighter flights that her soul might make, the chains left there to intimidate her. She would of been intimidated if they had not already done far worse to her. No, this room was pleasant compared to what she had experienced mere hours ago.  
  
At the thought of time she wondered: What had woken her up? This was a question to which she had no answer. May be it was the raise in temperature that was associated with the presence of another body, maybe it was the simple movement of air; or maybe it was the impregnated silence that filled this place? It was a silence that was screaming to be filled. It was the sort of silence one experiences when they are trying to stay extra quiet and fear they will be heard. May be she could hear a ragged heart beat that thumped out of control? What ever it was someone or thing had been here and recently.  
  
Naria raised herself off of the pallet and began to resurvey this room, looking at every nuance and detail. Examining the state of its mortar and stone. It was in all likelihood reinforced with magic and even it was not, any plan involving escape through structural integrity failure would take forever without a wand. Naria silently marveled at Muggle ingenuity. What she was able to do with magic they could match without magic. To her the Death Eaters and Voldemort's dislike and fear of Muggles seemed irrational. Muggles were no better, nor worse than wizards, they were just different.  
  
This propensity for the desire of pure-blood disgusted her. Many said that the people who said so only said so because they were Mudblood, but Naria could refute that fact. Her lines were more pure than even Voldemort's himself. In her family there had never been intermarriages with muggles. This was not because of pride nor because of prejudice. No the Sojairs were not the type to spend much time with Muggles and no, this was not because of a dislike or fear, it simply was. Naria was one of the exceptions. She had strayed into a field of work that periodically lead her to Muggle dealings.  
  
As she surveyed her temporary dwellings, the door of the room opened. Standing in it was Snape. As she was about to say something, Snape raised a finger to his lips, silencing her desire to speak. Silently he swept into the room; his black cape billowing after him. Silently the door shut behind him, as if by magic, and in all likelihood that had been the case. After the door shut his demeanor changed from that of an unsympathetic captor to a man of sympathy and compassion; it changed to that of man who did not want to see what was to come. He broke the silence, speaking in little more than a whisper that made up his voice. It did not have its normal menacing under tone, no, it had one of worry entangled with hope. "They can not hear us. You are to be kept until either your usefulness is spent or until you join Voldemort. Since I truly believe either will happen soon, we must hurry and find away for you to escape before Voldemort tires with you."  
  
Naria looked into his eyes. They were full with worry and the weariness of some one who had suffered greatly, "What has he done to you?"  
  
"That is not of importance," Snape hissed quietly.  
  
"Tell me," she said into the silence.  
  
"Nothing he wouldn't have done any other day."  
  
"Why do you stay?" she asked to this cold answer.  
  
"I would be dead if I left," Snape retorted into the void her question had left.  
  
"Severus, why did you join Voldemort in the first place?" Naria asked looking at the ground and her feat.  
  
Silence was what answered her immediately. She could see Snape trying to answer this for himself in the first place. She could see him coming only to one true answer. Naria silently wondered what he would tell. Silently wondered whether it would be the truth. "I sought power and he provided it. My ambition has ruined me and all I have ever cared about. My ambition is what will be responsible for your death if I can not figure out how to get you out of here."  
  
Naria knew from the trembling quality of his voice that this was the truth. He had been afraid to even admit to himself until now. At least her death would have some purpose. Maybe it would transform this man. Maybe it would revert him back to a state before he had found a fascination with the Dark Arts. "You are not the cause of this," she said trying to comfort him. She had once thought she reviled this man, but she knew he was human and his errors were human like anyone else's. Hopefully he would see the truth of her words.  
  
"If I had not sought Voldemort and had not followed him, my inability to be truly loyal would not have brought this sentence upon your head."  
  
"Maybe it would not have come so soon, but I have been marked since I became an Auror. Before you left Hogwarts he taunted me. I found my name scribed across the walls of victims' houses in blood. No, Voldemort has had my death warrant signed even before you were a supporter."  
  
"Not your death warrant. He wanted you on his side. He sees power in you. He knows that if you were to support him his rise would be easier," Severus said quietly, his dark eyes examining hers. She felt as if this man could look inside her soul. She felt as if he knew some profound truth about her that she had not discovered. "You also come from a powerful family. The Sojairs are respected in the Ministry and beyond. Part of Voldemort's plan has been to weaken the Ministry from within and Aurors are in an especially good place to do that."  
  
"Which is why if it is a choice between darkness or death, you must not get in the way."  
  
"He may not dispose of you because of your power. He seeks a Slytherin line and your power comes from the same source as his. You too have the blood of Slytherin cursing through your veins. He does not tell the others, but this is the case. I wonder how it was not discovered while you were at Hogwarts. You could of unleashed the Chamber of Secrets as well as he. You heard the Baslik. You could of controlled it, unleashed it."  
  
"The Baslik called on occasion, but I knew not to seek it. It called for blood, something I was unwilling to give it," she said quietly. She had always been ashamed, in part, by the blood that moved through her veins. Others thought Slytherin had only one heir. They had been wrong. He had, but one 'male' heir. He had, however, fathered another child. A child of pure blood and that was the line that she had inherited. She knew there was more light in her veins than any of Slytherin's poisonous and hate filled instincts.  
  
"He will seek you relentlessly. Fortunately, we will have some time. He has planned that you be left here for another day. He hopes to have your soul filled with fear and worry. He hopes to squelch your hope to make you easier to turn."  
  
"Severus, promise me something," Naria whispered into the silence. His gaze met hers again. "Promise me that if he seeks an heir that you kill me."  
  
He glared at her. He had not bargained for this. No, he had not come to kill the only person he cared about. He shook his head fervently in a strong no.  
  
Naria could not except this answer, "Voldemort is bad enough. An heir of our combined blood could bring destruction upon all of us. Slytherin's blood is that of cursed line. We are forever in search of power. Never satisfied. This search leads to hate and resentment. It can turn the best intentioned person to a course of darkness. Do you want the world to fall further into darkness after Voldemort's passing?"  
  
Snape looked at her, looked into her eyes, examining the truthfulness of her statement. He was formulating a decision. He could see her survive at the cost of everything or he could see her die, "If it comes to that.I will do as.as you ask." He did not want to see the woman he loved die, but he saw the truth and logic in her words.  
  
She was more hopeful now then ever before, life or death at least her worst fear would not come to pass. Voldemort would not be able to purify the Slytherin line. He would not be able to make it more potent. Naria did not even want to imagine the ramification if an heir was secured by Voldemort. With both the blood of Slytherin and trained hatred this new member of this rare line could collapse all she cared about.  
  
Her blood had never been much of a consideration of hers until now. She had known the truth and had feared it a bit, but she also knew that she had a far more pure ally in her quest to stay on the light.  
  
She looked again at Snape. His eyes were filled with tears. He did not want her dead and he knew Voldemort would seek what she feared soon, meaning that she would seek Severus's hand do the work that none other would do. A glint, like the one she had seen on his face the previous night, now trickled in the same place. "It won't come to that. It can't come to that. I will find away to get you out of this place. I will find away to save you from Voldemort and me," he said in a chocked whisper.  
  
She walked up to him. Her gaze held his with such intensity. The electricity that had filled the Muggle's house the previous night filled this space as well. It held the same power. Looking into his eyes, into his soul that had once been blackened by hatred, but that still held a glimmer of what was light and right she touched his face. Her hand ran down his cheek, wiping away the tears. "Don't cry," she soothed him. She herself felt like doing the same, but would not, could not.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
He looked at her. He had not wanted this to come. He did not want his hand to be the one that loosened her tie to this plane, to this life. He had loved this woman, he still loved this woman, but at the same moment he knew that her words held the truth. Voldemort could not purify the Slytherin line. The very thought revolted and disgusted him, but not for the same reasons it disgusted her. Yes, they were convincing reasons, but he had an even more instinctual reason not to see that fate pass. He could not abide by the thought of another man touching her, bringing pain to her.  
  
He could feel her sense his thoughts as she gazed into his dark eyes. He could feel her hand run his face and the softness of her touch surprised him. His life had been filled with things that were harsh since he had left the safety of school and had joined this man who struck fear into the hearts of all, even his own followers. The year he had spent with out her had caused him more pain than he had ever suffered until this day. It was in that time that his mind had fallen to things more dark and he had been brought to Voldemort's side.  
  
He did not want her to move her hand, he did not want her to look away. Moving his hand so that it enveloped hers. He felt the softness of her skin. He silently wished this moment would not end. He did not want her to pull away, he did not want to think about the reality of the situation. No, this was a pleasant fiction; one he had lived in his own head for far to long. To bad it was a fiction. He knew that she probably did not feel the same, but during this moment it did not matter to him. All that mattered was the warmth of her touch and how it brought him to a place before the Death Eaters and Voldemort.  
  
Moving his other hand, he touched her face. It, too, had the moistness of tears. He silently wished that she never had reason to cry.  
  
There was an electricity in the air. He had had a yearning for her touch. For so long his life had been filled with disappointment and pain. Her presence made him forget or at least not care. As he stared into her eyes he felt himself being drawn into there depths.  
  
He did not know if he could return her tenderness, but more than anything he wanted to. He wanted to share this moment with her, wanted reciprocation on his feelings. With her he felt a feeling of complete acceptance, a feeling of love. He leaned down and kissed her. Her lips were sweet, and brought comfort to him that he had not felt for along time. The last time he had had such a feeling comfort and joy was the last time he had shared a moment such as this. It had been the night of the Yule Ball.  
  
Neither wanted to pull away. Both of them had needed this, had wanted this. Their existence seemed to culminate at this point, but then he drew away. He did not draw away from fear like he had thought he would. No, he wanted this more than anything. "They will be missing me."  
  
And with that he swept out of the room. Leaving her standing there. He would return, but now there was more pressing needs. He had to figure out how to get her out of here. He did not know what he would do if harm came to her and he did not want to know.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
She had been locked in this room for two days now and she feared that Snape would not be able to do as he had said he would. She looked around the room for what most have been the hundredth time. She had to get out of here. Especially if what Snape said was true. Voldemort could not purify their line.  
  
Almost as if on cue, that figment of here worst nightmare entered the room. His eyes were as she remembered and she feared them. "So, have you reconsidered my offer, Auror Sojair? No? Well, that's alright. I don't need your agreement. Just remember I can make things easier for you if you give me agreement. I let you think what I've said over. Just remember death will come, when and how is up to you."  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
That night he returned. This time he knew they would not be seeking him anytime soon. He had been given the chance he would need to get her out of here. Voldemort and most of the Death Eaters would not be returning. They were off playing with Muggles.  
  
"He came today," Naria said with a panicked voice.  
  
"He's getting impatient. I personally thought this would come sooner, but Voldemort has more patience than even I thought. Fortunately, he will just have to wait a little longer. Pretty much everyone has left and I should be able to get you out. Here," he said throwing her wand to her. "Now then, I brought a cloak and mask. You should blend in enough. And I should be able to get you out of here. Just follow me and don't say anything."  
  
Naria pulled the black cloak over her slight shoulders. Its weight was almost over powering due a lack of energy from being deprived of sustenance and suffering from worry. Its dark folds hid her body. Severus saw her fumble with it.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
She was so weak. He watched her trying to master the cape. He wished there was an easier way, but there was not. When it became clear to him that she would not be able to master the garment he took the initiative. He rearranged the garment over her slight shoulders to make it easier for her. He could tell that she would also not be able to close the clasps. Yesterday she had seemed so strong, today. Like a dotting mother hen, he closed them for her.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
She sat there, feeling ridiculous. She could not even button her own cloak. Next, Snape fastened the mask to her head and lifted her hood to hide her long lengths of blond hair.  
  
"Follow me," he called to her quietly.  
  
Naria mustered all the strength she had and followed Snape. He seemed to move so fast. The mask reduced her visibility. All she could see was Snape's back. Silently, she fingered her wand. She had felt naked without its warmth in her hand. As an Auror, it had become an extension of her person.  
  
She prayed that Snape knew what he was doing and she also hoped that he would not get her sentence. As if her thoughts were presentable in reality, a roadblock presented itself.  
  
"Severus, where are you going?" asked a masculine voice. Its owner was short, but she could tell little else other than the fact that he enjoyed his food a bit to much. His face, unfortunately was covered by the same sort of mask she herself wore.  
  
Naria's heart began to beat unevenly, pounding faster and faster. Were they caught?  
  
Severus rounded on the man. She noticed how this seemed to drive fear into his heart. She could tell that who ever this was he was afraid of Snape more than collogues should be. Snape's voice came as a menacing hiss, "The usual, Wormtail, Voldemort's orders."  
  
She knew that name, but from where? She had no idea. She was also surprised by how even Severus's voice sounded.  
  
"Right, well. enjoy," said Wormtail, trying to escape Snape's menacing gaze.  
  
Snape turned and she followed him. It had not taken long to get out of this place. She was surprised at how they were not caught, at how she had not been questioned. Snape lead her into some woods that had surrounded that place. They marched deep into the darkness of the woods. When nearly all light save that from the stars and moon made its way barely through the thick trees, Snape stopped.  
  
She was more weary than she had ever been before. Finally, being nearly free, she collapsed on her knees in the darkened forest.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
Severus kneeled next to her. He lifted off of her hood. He knew that she had been weak before this journey, unable to button her own cape. Now, she would certainly be weary. Her blond hair cascaded underneath the rest of the cloak. Next, he removed the mask. Her face shined brilliantly in the pale light of night. Carefully, with nimble hands, he unfastened the buttons and the cape slid off her shoulders. With its weight off of her, he noticed her breath more easily.  
  
"You must go soon. When Voldemort returns, he will come looking for you. Go to Professor Dumbledore. He is the only man Voldemort fears. He will be able to help you," Snape said quietly to her in earnest. "Apparate to Hogsmeade. You should have enough time to get to Hogwarts before Voldemort misses you. And remember, he will be searching for you. Hide some place. I don't know what would befall us if he can get his hands on you again. Oh, tell Dumbledore I will aid him. I can tell him of some of Voldemort's more ambitious plans. Now go."  
  
Naria looked at him, regarding him in silence. "What about you? Voldemort will know won't he?"  
  
"No, I meant what I told Wormtail," Snape said in silence.  
  
"Your going to kill Muggles?" Naria asked in shook.  
  
"No, no, no. Just give 'em a bit of a scare. I won't have deniability other wise," Snape answered her. Standing up, he extended a hand to her so she could also raise herself off the ground. She held on to his for a second. He looked into her eyes. He did not want to leave her, but they had to part their separate ways. But before they had to go that had a little time. He kissed her gently, a kiss she to reciprocated in kind. He did not want this to end, but it had to. "Go, before you run out of time. I'll be fine," he said trying to sooth the worries he knew she was suffering from.  
  
And with that she let go of his hand. With her wand, she apparated out of his life.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
That was an incident she had never told Remus about and for good reason. No one other than Snape knew of her bloodline. A line that she was ashamed of. She was afraid f its power. Its seduction, how it could entangle ones senses, prompt them to do things that one was not normally prone to. At least this time the Baslik was not calling to her, Harry had rid her of that annoyance. She had never been prompted to let it out, but could of, she very well could of controlled it, used it as she saw fit. Naria could so easily become Slytherin's avenger. She could have opened the Chamber. She had known where it lie, she simply had not been tempted by the calls for blood.  
  
The difference between herself and Voldemort were very simple. She had 'chosen' not to follow her genetic predispositions. Naria was not one who could rote that type of events. Nay, she had a calling to prevent them. Blood or no Blood, she had stronger Gryffindor predispositions than anything else.  
  
After dinner in her and Remus's quarters, alone, she decided that she needed to speak to Remus when he got back from dinner with the staff. Naria knew he was probably wondering where she was, but Naria had not felt like eating under the eyes of Dumbledore. Some times she felt that he knew that which she had never said. Nor did she feel like sitting under Snape's gaze for two very good reasons: One, he knew. Two, they had a past that just shouldn't be thought about to any great extent.  
  
That too, she had never told Remus. Sometimes a secret or two is better than a ruined relationship. She knew that he too had things he would never tell her, could never tell. She had come to accept that part of her fiancé.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
Through out dinner he had wondered where ever Naria had lost herself. He had been looking forward to hearing about her first day. As was the rest of the staff, but she had never turned up for dinner. He had also missed her at lunch.  
  
Through both meals he had been forced to endure Snape's glare with out respite. Naria had been respite last time. It had been far more bearable then. He had at least had a place to focus his attention with out being askewed as being rude.  
  
After dinner, he made his way to their quarter's in the staff hall. Already, he had checked her classroom and had not found her in there.  
  
Upon entering, he saw her sitting alone in front of a fire that had been lit by house elves. She still wore her robes from work, but her hair was unceremoniously loosened from its braid. She looked as if a truck had hit her, so engrossed in thought she had not even noticed him enter the room. He knew he could move stealthily, but Naria had extraordinary senses, fine tuned from her previous line of work.  
  
He decided that it would be best if he broke her concentration, considering as she was doing nothing in particular. "Naria, you were missed at dinner." He smiled sort of vaguely  
  
Those simple words drew her out of her own little world and back into reality. He made his way to a place next to her. She looked even worse from the frontal view. Silently he wondered about what had happened. He had not heard about anything like one of the students being hurt. No, on the contrary, he heard only good things about her teaching methods. "Why weren't you there? The teachers were looking forward to hearing about your day," he said trying to engage her. That did not work so he tried something else," What's the matter, Love?"  
  
Naria met his gaze. He could tell that what ever it was he was only going to hear a partial truth. He had learned to accept that side of her. The side that only let her say part of what she was feeling. He knew she had a repressed side, much like he did, and of this side she had never said a word. He had always silently wondered, but had chosen not to push. If she, at some point, chose to speak he knew she knew he was there for her. "Nothing."  
  
"Tell me," he demanded quietly.  
  
"Nothing. really," she said, this time a tad more convincingly, but he knew she was lying, it was plain to see.  
  
"Naria, tell me what happened. I'm not going to accept nothing."  
  
Naria looked into is eyes. He could see something dancing behind their blue depths. He could see her considering what exactly to say, editing her words before they were spoken, "Neville Longbottom."  
  
"What bout Neville?" he asked trying to figure out what her cryptic words meant.  
  
"He asked me about his parents today," she said in a voice that was almost quieter than a whisper.  
  
"What did you say?" Remus wondered. He knew Naria had known the Longbottoms from her job at the Ministry. He also knew what had happened to them.  
  
"A little as possible. I told him the truth though. I told him that his parents were good people who shouldn't of suffered the way they did."  
  
"What's the matter then?" he asked, confused about why should seem so depressed by this.  
  
"We all have things from out past, things we remember and Neville surfaced some of my less pleasant memories," she said looking into gaze.  
  
"What is it you remember?" he had known she had some part of her past she chose not to share, but he had never known what it was.  
  
"Voldemort. The Death Eaters. Slytherin." The last name came as a particular surprise. Why Slytherin? But this time it was she who asked the question, "Do you want children Remus?"  
  
He was a bit taken back by this question. He had not been prepared for it considering the topic of conversation. It lead him to think carefully about how he would answer this weighted inquire. "I. think that at some point, that yes, I will want children. Not yet obviously, but at some point."  
  
Naria nodded her head as he answered. She then spoke words he had not expected, "I can't have children."  
  
Remus shook his head confused, "What do you mean can't? There's nothing wrong with you, and even if there was it could be cured by a charm."  
  
"No, Remus. That's not what I meant. I'm healthy. pursay. And no it isn't because I don't want children. I simply can't," she said confusing Remus even further. She was healthy, but could not have children and it was not because of medical condition?  
  
"But. why?"  
  
"I have a blood line that should not be passed on," she said matter-of- factly. As she met his eyes.  
  
"What do you mean? Why can't your line be passed on? This doesn't make sense."  
  
"Remus, but it does. Dumbledore is wrong about Voldemort on one account. He is not the only living magical person with Slytherin's blood. I too carry that curse in my veins. I too could of opened the Chamber of Secrets if I felt so inclined. I too could of directed the dementors and giants to do my bidding. I too could of tried to kill Harry. I too could have been the one responsible for your friends deaths. Don't you see? Slytherin's line must not continue. It is evil, filled with a seductive and ensnaring power. It can cause even the best intentioned person to do what can not be spoken," she said trying to explain that which as so hard to put into words.  
  
"That's impossible. Only one person has Slytherin's blood. It's not you," Remus said quietly a bit in shook.  
  
"Remus, I was once captured by Voldemort and the Death Eaters. The reason he captured me? He wanted the purest Slytherin heir he could achieve. He figured that if he could not achieve immortality an heir to continue his work would be second best remembering the lesson of his own great grandfather. Do you know why that didn't happen? Your foil saved me. Severus chose not to let Voldemort continue our line. He's the only reason I'm here to day. He's the only reason Voldemort doesn't have an heir with an even purer amount of Slytherin's blood. That Sorting Hat had told me the same thing, so you see it is true," Naria continued with out a stop. She had to tell Remus all that she had not told him about her blood line.  
  
"I.I."  
  
"It's true Remus. I have his blood, something that cannot be passed on. But I don't have his drives."  
  
Remus looked at her. Something in her voice told him that what she said was the truth, but another part of him didn't want to believe it. He didn't like the idea of the woman he loved coming from the same line as that which was responsible for so much death and devastation.  
  
"Naria, I. believe you. I.I don't need.I don't. I love you," he said. Out of all he could say that was the only thing that truly mattered. "You have accepted me when no other would. It seems hypocritical to do anything less for you." He knelt at her feet where she sat. Looking into her eyes he took her hands in hers. He could see the tears running down her face. He felt that she should never have that look upon her face. He moved in a gesture to wipe them from her eyes. Drying them, trying to make the surface signs of her pain go away in a symbolic way to rid her of the inner causings.  
  
He wished a thousand times over that people like Voldemort had never happened. He wished that no one should feel the pain he had. No one should loose their friends to the hands of another friend. No one should have a fiancé who worries on the consequences of her bloodline being passed. No one should have to deal with the pain that this women has in her life. He did not even want to think about all things this woman had seen.  
  
Even though he told her he did not want children that night, he knew there was a flaw in her beliefs, in her arguments. She had missed one important lesson. It is not your blood lines that determine your nature; it is your choices. He was saddened that she had not learned this lesson, but when she did he would discuss children again with her. He knew they could raise wonderful children. It did not matter that they would carry the blood of Slytherin or a werewolf.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
A week or so latter she had recovered herself. At breakfast she answered the numerous questions posed by the staff with a smile and hardly a flicker of a thought went to her conversation with Neville and the memories it had stirred up for her. Only for a second did her thoughts fall to that past with which she rarely thought when Snape descended upon the table and took his place at the table. Naria thought idly to herself that Snape should not leave his dungeon. It was where he belonged, but then she remembered how much she owed him and how much she had once cared for him; she silently apologized to him within her own head.  
  
She wondered what it was about him now that made her think such horrible thoughts about him, or maybe it was simply herself. Maybe she had become the one who was cold and callus. What ever it was, the man definitely had a quality that made her a tad on edge these days when before he had not. Logically she could not find a reason. Snape would have been called even harder in the days she knew him. Through part of it he had even still been a Death Eater and even then she had not feared and recoiled from him. No, something had profoundly changed in herself, she was nearly certain. Maybe it was the fact that night she had come so close to surrender and he had seen her at her weakest or maybe it was something else. Maybe she refused to accept something about herself that either this man knew or represented or there was and even simpler explanation, but that was ridiculous. How could that be true. No it definitely wasn't true. Or are you rationalizing? No, You love Remus.  
  
Again Naria noticed Snape staring at her and she averted her eyes. She did know one quality of his gaze that made her feel uncomfortable, she felt as if he could read what she was thinking, and on a deep, animalistic level that made her nervous, more nervous than was perhaps logical, but it was deep enrooted into her mind and unlikely to change. Naria, like every one else, was a creature of habit and of nature and that was simply a part of her nature.  
  
This time the young Spells Professor knew how Remus had felt. To sit here alone with this man's unshifting stare was quite disturbing. At least before she had had Remus to divert her attention. She understood, however, why he had not showed. He would have a strenuous day with his classes. First period he would have the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor fourth years. They would be going over the unforgivable curses: a rather strenuous subject. Then he would have the Gryffindor Fifth Years and the Slytherins; for some reason that combination kept coming up. Naria knew patterns develop and then it takes little reinforcement for them to become hard wired. In that class they would be going over magical creatures, in particular, one Remus knew a great deal about, the werewolf. She had noticed how tense he had gotten when she asked what he would be teaching today and she full well understood, or at least understood as well as someone without the condition could. What Naria offered him was acceptance. She had never judged him. No, she had always tired to avoid that particular quality. She had found it detrimental to judge before the fact in her previous occupation and she carried that quality with her.  
  
Naria silently missed her old job just a tad. She had enjoyed her work countering the evil her blood kin could do. When Voldemort had risen she had been in her light. She had found herself a career that she had been good at. That being said, it was probablely one of the most difficult things she had ever experienced. She could remember every crime scene in detail. She could remember the looks etched on the dead faces, and the screams of terror the living made even after the ordeal. She remembered every messaged scrawled in blood on the wall that endited her, she could remember them word for word. They had all been designed to taunt her, to put her so on edge that she made stupid mistakes that would bring her to the hands of those who had scrawled them.  
  
Dumbledore asked quietly, disturbing her disturbing train of thought, most to Naria's pleasure. "Have you met the Weasley boys yet?"  
  
"Yes, Professor Dumbledore, I do believe that I will have them in my first class today."  
  
"Do call me Albus, how long have we known each other?"  
  
"Yes, Albus," Naria said with a friendly smile, her attention diverted from both thoughts of the past and the man who now clearly despised her.  
  
"I'm certain you've been warned about them. All being said, they are good and intelligent boys, just remember they easily become bored and that is mainly when they become trouble some," Dumbledore said to her with the voice that expressed a body of wisdom that had been developed over numerous years of teaching and life. He knew more about people and their ways than anyone Naria had ever met. Behind his half moon spectacles lay his eyes that still had a twinkle even with all this man had seen and observed in his life. He had seen the rise and fall of the most power on both sides of the ideological fence. He had been a teacher to the greatest wizards and witches, even a teacher to Tom Marvolo Riddle. Horrible and wonderful, he had seen it all and more. He was probably the one and only hope when it came to stopping a resurrected Voldemort with or without a government that acknowledged the fact. He was also one of the main protectorates of the boy who was at the center of this. Naria silently wondered what this man had seen to have gathered the look he had in eyes right now. What secret did he have? He had seen things as bad or worse than she and yet he retained that undiminishable twinkle.  
  
She was always slightly shocked by the amount of wonderment he seemed to poses for someone who had seen so much. Most people developed ideas about how the world worked and kept them static; Dumbledore, however, seemed to always question his own preconceptions about the world and people, seemed to leave them open and input new data as it became clear to him, that was perhaps why he was so keen on offering second chances to those no one else would of. He had offer Remus a chance and then had extended. He had reaccepted Snape. And he had seen the error in his actions in helping having Sirius convicted. Naria, like so many, looked up to this man and his wisdom about life and people.  
  
What probably found Naria the most striking about him was the fact that with all that. With all his wisdom and all his knowledge, he was still a man and that was all he wanted to be seen as. He had once told her as a girl that all he had ever wanted for Christmas had been a pair of good sturdy socks, but instead he always got books. Next year she got him a pair of nice, sturdy socks and watched his reaction. Sure enough, he seemed happier that Christmas, not that he was not happy every Christmas, just more happy.  
  
One day Naria hoped that she had similar eyes, and a similar understanding disposition. "I had figured that to be the case, Albus."  
  
"Oh and I suggest disarming them during the beginning of class. They do enjoy breaking in new teachers," Dumbledore said with a knowing voice.  
  
"Just don't rearm them before my class," said Snape coolly.  
  
"Why would I do that Severus?" Naria asked him with a devilish secret smile.  
  
Snape met her gaze with an even stare, judging her, questioning her, trying to discern her motives, and for the first time that night she didn't feel as if he could tell what she was thinking. Naria could go on the hunt as easily as he and Naria could win.  
  
Looking back to Dumbledore, she finished her conversation with him and made her way to her class rooms to begin her first lesson of the day. 


	4. Moon Tides

Moon Tides  
  
DISCLAIMER: THOUGH I WISH I COULD CLAIM PROFESSOR R. J. LUPIN WAS MINE, THEN I COULD TAKE HIM HOME IN A BOX, IT IS ALAS NOT THE FACT. HE AND ALL THE OTHER WONDERFUL CHARACTERS I HAVE BORROWED BELONG TO MISS ROWLING AND HER WONDERFUL AND CREATIVE MIND. THAT BEING SAID THE CHARACTER OF NARIA SOJAIR BELONGS TO ME AND ALL THE RIGHTS THAT ARE INHERINT WITH THAT CREATION ARE MINE. ALSO, NO MONEY IS BEING MADE.  
  
Remus had though about how he would bring this topic up this year, especially considering everyone knew. Last year no one had known his secret. That being the case, he had been able to teach this class with the separation that was caused by lack of knowledge on the part of the listeners. He also found it ironic that half way through this section he would have to take leave because the effects of condition would come to pass with in a night. Already he could feel the moon tides pulling on him. He paced, the outward sign that "the Wolf" wanted out.  
  
Remus thought wistfully about the breakfast he had missed. Naria had returned to the High Table for the first time in a weak. They had not had a lot of time to themselves. Class kept them a part during the early day to around five. Then grading after dinner. Realistically they probably had an hour to themselves before bed not including meals and these days it seemed that they never seemed to make meals together unless pre-agreed upon.  
  
He knew that the first class of the day would be the easier of the two; the unforgivable curses were a relatively easy yet very important subject that had to be taught. Comparatively, it would be an easier class to teach than the one he was fretting over. Silently he wished that he was only teaching it to the Gryffindors today. But no, the fates had not smiled upon. He had been graced with the Slytherins in the same class.  
  
Remus began scribing on the chalkboard some of the key points that he wanted them to scribe in their notes. He tried to make the amount of book and desk work a lesser portion of this class, preferring hands on work; however this particular subject did not offer much hands on work. He did not want his students experimenting with these particular curses on any form of life, whether it was legal or not. He did, however, want them to be able to resist and recognize them, which means that he still had to teach them.  
  
He looked over the simple lesson plan; mainly he was going to try to scare them away from using these particular curses. That was what needed to be taught when it came to them, be so afraid to use them but wise enough to know how to stop them.  
  
He was glad he had never come across these curses in person, unlike his fiancé. Sometimes at night she would wake with a start, often screaming the name of one of the curses. He watched her toss and turn through out the night on more than one occasion. He often woke her, but sometimes she would have nightmares all night and on those nights he often did not sleep at all. He cared for her as much as she cared for him. She had often stayed up on the night of the full moon, checking on him. He had found her outside the shed one night. She had fallen asleep leaning against a tree that was next to it. She had never been afraid of the Wolf, she had never been afraid of him, but rather she had been afraid for him.  
  
He looked to Naria's strength to sustain him. He was not certain he could do this if he had not found acceptance so readily from her and others in his life. It had allowed him to realize he was not evil as so many believed. No, he was a man just as any. He had emotions, just as any. And he was not a beast no matter what Snape and the Slytherins might try to say. No, he was worthy and he finally realized that. Part of the reason he had run out last time was because he felt it was too dangerous, but that had been an excuse. He had not felt worthy once people had learned the truth about him.  
  
Looking over what he had written, making certain it was accurate; he checked spelling and the like. He would have the Ravenclaws and they had a perfectionistic streak running through their lot. He did not want them pointing out silly mistakes, certainly not on his first lesson with them anyhow. After being certain that it was correct, he flipped the board over. He was not going to have them look at that until the end of class, but it was easier for him to get it prepared now then waste time in class. First time with the unforgivable curse could take a bit longer.  
  
After preparing the board, he went to his desk. On it was the attendance list. Checking for the second time he reviewed the names. Going over them in his head. Fortunately there did not seem to be anyone who he remembered suffering horribly at Voldemort's hands. He had heard the story from the previous year. Apparently Neville was quite horribly affected by a demonstration of one of the three horrible curses and he did not want a repeat showing this year. It simply would not do to have some one pass out in class, but apparently he was in the clear.  
  
As people filed in and found their places, he prepared to begin. Moving to where he liked to sit, he waited one last second, making certain that as many stragglers from breakfast got here on time. As people set up, he called their attention to him, "I'm Professor Lupin, as I'm sure most of you remember and this is Defense Against the Dark Arts. All good wizards and witches need certain skills to protect them from forces that would have harm done to them. Generally, I will be giving practical lessons, there isn't much in class bookwork and that sort, but with our first section that is simply not an option.  
  
"Now then, I want every one to look at your wands. This device is one of the most powerful tools at your disposal. It has the ability to be your greatest ally or a dangerous tool. Both dark and light actions can happen with this simple and elegant tool. You can defend or you can injure, some even seek death with this.  
  
"This year will be devoted to curses, but this first section will be devoted to three in particular, can anyone tell me what those might be?"  
  
At that prompting nearly all of the Ravenclaws raised their hands into the air. He noticed that quite a few Gryffindors also levitated their hands which swelled his old house pride; however he choose upon one of the Ravenclaws. "Yes."  
  
"The unforgivable curses," said a fourteen-year-old girl.  
  
"Quite right, five points to Ravenclaw. Right, now then can anyone name one of these curses?" again he received a similar reaction this time calling on a Gryffindor boy, "Mr. Creevy?"  
  
"Avada Kedavra. You know, the one Harry survived," the boy said.  
  
Oh yes, this boy had a bit of an obsession on Mr. Potter. He apparently hero-worshiped him and the ground Harry walked on. "Correct, what does this curse do?"  
  
He called on one of the Ravenclaws who answered accurately, not like there was any surprise there. "Yes, it is the killer curse. Is there a defense against this curse?"  
  
Hands, a sea of hands. Choosing at random he got another answer. "Your answer is partially right, there is no counter-curse, but there are some rather unique magical events that can allow a person to survive. As Mr. Creevy pointed out, Harry Potter survived because of one of these. It is the most ancient for of magic. This particular form effects both wizard and muggle alike. There are certain blood charms that can offer protection. Emotion has always been at the center of the issue. Love. has the ability to conquer the most horrible and deadly of curses. Harry survived because of the love of his parents and their sacrifice.  
  
"Can anyone name any other reasons the curse might fail or backfire?" This time not a single hand levitated in the air. "No? Certain wands have properties that cannot be broken no matter who uses them and for what. Certain wands lending their cores from a single source can often block thing that an ordinary wand would not. It is the power of certain centers of wands. However the likeliness of this saving you is next to nil. When dealing with Avada Kedavra I would suggest a path of avoidance. Don't get in its way and you should be fine, that really is the only thing that is likely to save you.  
  
"Can any one tell me the rest of the Unforgivable Curses?" This time he got a far more desirable result as again a sea of hands was at his disposal to chose from.  
  
"Correct. Ten points to Ravenclaw. Now then. I'm only going to demonstrate one of these curses today, the Imperius Curse. This particular curse is one that by the end of this year I want you to all know, personally and by the signs and perhaps some of you will be able to fight the strength of this curse, we shall see. Now then, may I have a volunteer?" Few hands on the Ravenclaw side rose while quite a few on the Gryffindor were present; again a small twinge of house pride announced itself in his heart. "Ms. Ginny Weasley, if you would please indulge me?"  
  
The young girl, the very image of the Weasley family, stood by her seat. He knew this girl had a fancy for Harry and for some odd reason this girl reminded him of Lilly in a very abstract way. "Now then, Ms. Weasley, I am going to demonstrate the power of this particular curse upon you. This curse has the ability to have you loose complete control of ones actions; I can make you do anything I like, from the silly to the dark. That is the reason this curse is worthy of life imprisonment at Azkaban. Now then, if you would please move to the front of the class." The girl complied as she was asked. He took his wand in hand and. "Imperio."  
  
With that the curse fell upon the girl. Her head lolled to her chest and she was clearly not under her own control. "Lets see. what shall I have you do? Ah!" Suddenly the girl did a wild back leap that would have been impossible for her on her own. A giggle passed through the class. Time to make this more serious, "This may look funny, but I have TOTAL control of Ms. Weasley. If I felt so inclined I could have her leap out a window or drown herself. That is the reason this curse is so horrible and so powerful. This curse became a favorite tool of the Death Eaters and the like. It caused good wizards and witches to do the unimaginable. Oh, Ms. Weasley," he shook his hand and she suddenly snapped out of her trance.  
  
"Curses such as this are the worst wizards have learned to use against each other. I will teach you what I can about these curses and how they can be countered, but the most important thing I can tell you is that not all curses can be countered. As you know Avada Kedavra is not counter-able, so I'm certain your asking why am I showing you these? You need to be able to recognize them. the best policy when it comes to curses such as this is avoidance."  
  
"Now then," he flipped the chalkboard over, "I want you to jot down some of this information. We will be continuing this subject in our next month worth of classes, at the end of that time I will be expecting a ten roll essay at the end, a bit long I am aware, but these three curses are very important." a groan passed through the class on the Gryffindor side, but the Ravenclaw looked down right excited. "Right, on to homework, one scroll on the history of these and their use and problems they caused during the rise of Voldemort."  
  
The rest of class was spent in silence as they transcribed the information from the board and making other pertinent notes on the topic. When the bell sounded the class was emptied out save for the straggling Ravenclaws, "Yes, you can hand me more then ten rolls, but I don't want more than thirty and if you hand me that much I'll guarantee only a skim or a grade that will be very late, your choice. Have I answered your questions?" Not to his surprise all nodded and left.  
  
As his classroom was left in silence he erased the board, pulled out his lesson plan, and gulped. During his previous class he had put the subject of his apprehension out of his head, but now it returned as strong, if not stronger than before. Snape had made it an issue before his arrival so he figured he might as well get this over. It made the most sense because Snape had actively tried to turn his student and his house members against him, then at least Snape could not say they were not prepared to deal with him. No, on the contrary, they would know more than enough about his kind. He simply was not going to teach in a manner as biased as Snape had tried to. On top of the biased nature of their previous lessons on the subject, there was always the fact that the books were often misinformed on many points on the subject and he was not going to have students passing on this flawed information as accuracy unlike so many others had. A lot of it was simply ridiculous, the legends were taken as fact and they exceedingly were stretched to stress the point of the danger his kind provided. Over generations this simply became fact, not the myths it had once been. Some were simply illogical, like the idea of shooting a werewolf with a silver bullet to cure them, posh, that simply brings death. He certainly would be stamping that idea out in the minds of these students.  
  
After this more sensitive subject they were at least moving into far friendlier ground, depending on ones point of view of course. This year would be devoted to perfection of earlier learnt concepts and perfection of their application. These students would be tested on their O.W.L's this year and he wanted to make certain that they got as many and were as well prepared as they could.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
She walked through the mostly empty hallways. Nearly all the students had found the Great Hall making it a loud place during lunch. Those who had not had either returned to their dorms or frequented the lunch hall were to be discovered generally in the library. Her bounds of knee length, gold hair flowed just slightly after her with every step as she made her way.  
  
The distance was not horribly far and she soon arrived where she had intended. The dark dungeons, that place which had always had the ability to strike at least a bit of fear into the heart of students, was nearly as she had remembered. She could remember the hours of class time she had spent in here, bent over a simmering caldron, coaxing her mixtures to be as desired.  
  
She had always enjoyed school and potions had been little different. Academics were her strong suit, even if she found the teachers less than desirable on occasion. As it was, that was how she had felt about her old potions teacher. He had been a grumpy and slightly creepy wizard, who clearly had not seen the sun in many years. He had that odd scent she had always associated with potions, a bit of smoke and random ingredients to be found in most potions. She had noticed this smell on Severus when he stood close enough to her. In an odd way she kind of liked that scent, it had never been associated with ill feeling memories.  
  
The old potions master had had that ability to descend upon one with out them knowing and scare a student doing both that which they should nor what they should not be doing. She had noticed that Severus himself had that ability to move through the shadows in silence and then. pounce. This ability reminded her of a cat and how they hunt their prey.  
  
As she entered the darkened dungeon that was in desperate need of light she searched for the man who haunted them. She had expected to find hunched over his stack of papers, grading them with a sneer. Stop it. Stop demonizing him. He isn't that bad. no your rationalizing. you feel. STOP IT.  
  
He had not been hunched over grading papers; no, he had fallen asleep with his on those papers. Naria saw the top one and something that looked suspiciously like an F circled on it. She was about to leave him to his dreams. As she turned, however, she heard him make a noise. She froze in her spot. Feeling as a student, she froze in her spot. In the years that had passed since she had last seen him, she had become slightly afraid of this man and what he represented to her. She, like so many of his students, feared his voice that was both a whisper and a yell all in one. But that noise that had escaped him had not been one made by a man who was conscious. Again he uttered something and she watched him quiver. She found this the oddest thing she had ever seen in a man. It was a strange idea to say the least.  
  
She noticed his behavior more carefully. She noticed that his lips uttered a name and then his face contorted again. She half expected a scream to escape them, but to Snape's credit that did not happed. Again his head moved, quivering to the other direction. She could see a small stream of what looked to be. tears. on his cheek. She had never seen this side of Snape and had hoped that she would never see it again. She knew he was having what must have been a horrible nightmare. She knew what that felt like and felt sorry for him on so many levels.  
  
It pained her to watch him. It pained her to see him in pain. She had once loved this man and now found that she still had a place in her heart for him. She did not want him to be so pained as he clearly was now. She was tempted to make a move towards him, tempted to shake him out of his sleep. Hesitant she moved forward, edging towards where he both sat and slept.  
  
Her suspicion had been proven correct upon a closer inspection. Snape in fact had a small stream of tears running down his pale skin. As she looked at him she rounded the desk and knelt in front of him. Nervously she moved with a slightly unsteady hand to wake him. Touching his midnight black robes she shook him lightly at first. He woke with a start as she had expected, but she had still found herself off guard. His eyes snapped to her and the sneer turned into something of a grimace. "What do you want?" he asked a bit more forcefully than she had hoped he intended but could not be certain.  
  
"I.I.I" she was at a loss for words. Now in his sights she found her ground taken out form under her.  
  
"Out with it," he demanded harshly. Then cutting her off he continued on, "Do you draw pleasure from my suffering? Did you enjoy that little show?" He was livid and she was afraid. He had gotten to his feet and now she found herself pressed against the wall, afraid but still caring. She would not be deterred from caring for him even if he wanted anything but.  
  
"How can you possibly think that, Severus?" she said in a voice that held none of her fear, none of that which he was trying to press into her. No, she answered his livid voice with one that was not cool like his had been so many time, but full of feeling. Feeling that she had tried so many times to deny herself, but she knew in her heart of hearts that that was the case. "I have felt the same things as you. I have had the same dreams as you. I have woken with a start on more occasions than I care to think about. No, Severus, I would not find this a show. I have to much experience with things such as these and."  
  
"And what?" he demanded venomously.  
  
"And. and. and you ," she said barely getting the words out herself. Barely allowing herself to except the truth.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
Snape heard what she had said. Staring at her in disbelief his mind raced with the implications of what every single word could hold. He looked at this woman, this woman he had once felt emotion, true emotion, for. This woman who he had risked it all for. This woman who he had forsaken the Death Eaters for. This woman who he had become a spy for. This woman who had betrayed him more than he had betrayed anyone.  
  
He had trouble looking at her and not wishing he hadn't forsaken the Death Eaters. It now disgusted him that he had once loved her. It made him sick to think that her lips had once touched his, that he would have given all for one night with her. He was sickened that the woman who he let see his heart now found respite in the arms of a werewolf.  
  
His eyes held a fire that he knew would strike a fear into her heart. He knew how she reacted. He remembered that night now over fifteen years prior. He had remembered her cowering under his gaze and the power it had given him. But as he remembered her fear and how he had drunken from it he could also remember his fear and pain from that night. It had been perfect before Voldemort had arrived. He might of even unleashed that most unforgivable curse upon her small form. Yes, he had cared for her but in the power of the moment he could of done so many things and now he was not so sure he would of regretted pointing his wand at her and saying the simple two word incantation. No, he would have enjoyed watching the life drain from her, leaving her as lifeless as he now felt.  
  
She however held his stare, held the gaze which had once feared more than anything else. She stared into his eyes that were a shade darker than the night sky. She held his stare evenly and measured, refusing to show the fact she was truly afraid of his eyes and the look that held them. Refusing to show the truth.  
  
He held the venom of his words on his face as he considered what she had said, as he considered for a second time what her cryptic words could mean. He thought and silently wondered. She was right was the only conclusion he could come to. She had never shown him malice. No she had in fact shown him more consideration than anyone he had ever met. Her eyes still held that soft place in which he had been drawn into. That place which had once showed him that he was important. She had held herself for him as a school girl. She had shown him understanding that had allowed him for a time to forget the fear and the hate he had once felt towards the world. Now staring into her eyes he felt the same hatred he had developed melt away by the second. He for some reason could not stay long mad at her. No, it had taken all his strength to stay mad this long.  
  
The conclusion in hand, he drew back. He no longer held her against the wall cowering in fear. With his presence withdrawn he noticed her draw in a lusty breath. She had clearly not been breathing when he had been staring her down. He drew back into himself. He rarely did this sort of things these days. He had long ago learned to keep his emotions in check. This situation had clearly been trying on him. Silently he felt a tad ashamed for his emotional outburst. I am a grown man who still threw tantrums, he thought mirthlessly.  
  
Returning to his old self, that self which rarely made emotional outbreaks allowed him to once again survey her. I have been disappointed so many times in life, why should she be any different? But she was different, even if he did not want to admit it to himself it was still the case. "Why are you here Professor?" he asked, a sneer spreading across his face.  
  
This time she was able to answer and not stutter in the process, "I have been informed that you have the ingredients that are necessary to make the Wolfsbane potion. I need them if Remus is to have his potion before the full moon." Her words may have come through without stuttering, but she was far quieter than normal.  
  
"Yes, we wouldn't want him running around in the form of the Wolf now would we?" he said in tone that was far more snide than anything he had used previous. He remembered all to well what could happen when "the Wolf" was not contained. He personally felt that the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures should deal with all of Remus's kind but thought wiser than to tell her. She may not stand up to harassment now, but he knew that she could if pushed and he knew than in all likelihood she would to.  
  
Staring at her he could not figure what it was about the werewolf that attracted her. He found it completely and utter ridiculous that she should take her company with his kind. Looking at her he said what had been on his mind when ever she entered a room with that abomination, "What is it you see in him?"  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
Naria looked at the potions master. He had again retreated into himself. She was shocked by what he had just said. Staring at him, she came to an answer.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
He looked at her, waiting for her answer he stared into her eyes. He could see emotion filling their blue orbs and knew she was coming to an answer.  
  
"Because I could only wait so long. The heart has a way of growing cold over time," she finally answered. Her voice was almost a yell, but her eyes where pleading with him to stop this. He would do anything but.  
  
"Why him?" he said, his voice full of venom.  
  
"Why not him?" she asked, her voice held the same tone as his and the same fiery steel he had once associated with her.  
  
"He's a werewolf," Snape said with even more venom in his voice.  
  
"And you were a Death Eater," she said again matching him in tone and intonation.  
  
Snape looked at her, shocked by the intonation of her voice. He had never expected her to hold that tone. But he was not going to show the fact that he was shocked. "Do you want were-cubs running around with Slytherin's blood?" he asked.  
  
"How do you know what we intend to do in our private life? How do you know he and I have any intention of having children?" she asked him, for the first time actually standing reaching her full height.  
  
"You lay with him, do you not?"  
  
"How is that any of your business?"  
  
"He wants children. Can you truly please him if you are unable to give him children?"  
  
He expected a quick answer but none came. She sat there looking at him considering his words on the verge of tears. She finally answered, her voice constricted, yet clear. The emotion of her words was palpable, "He.he loves me and is willing. willing to live a life.a life without chil.child.ren."  
  
"Is it fair for you to request that of him?" Severus said in return. "Is it fair for you to ask him to live a life with out hope of spreading his genes, of continuing his line?"  
  
Again she seemed to be unable to answer him. He waited, he knew she would eventually come up with what she felt and would be able to put it to words.  
  
When she answered her voice was soft, barely a whisper, "No, its not fair. Its never been fair, but he doesn't seem to care about that." She collapsed against the wall, sinking to the floor.  
  
Snape looked upon her. He had never seen like this. He had never seen her so small. He had never seen her vulnerable, like this anyhow. In the back of his mind a quiet voice nagged him about reducing her to this state. He knew that voice to be his conscious and he knew he wouldn't be able to ignore it very long. His sneer, that had so long been his constant companion, left his face. The potions master walked to where she sat and knelt down in front of her.  
  
He looked at her face. So long ago, it was the ray of beauty in his life. Now it was dark and clouded. Tears ran down her soft, pale skin, shining in the dim light of his dungeons. He outstretched his hand and wiped away the damp stream from her skin. For a moment his hand lingered upon her cheek. Their eyes met. Hers so full of sadness she had bottled up for so long and his. His were full of similar sadness, but also a longing. He had for so long gone without company, without love. He hated Remus more for the fact that he had found love than the fact that he was a werewolf.  
  
He kissed her lightly upon the lips. They both wanted this, needed this, especially him. He had gone so long with out love. But than he pulled away. This was not right, no matter how much he wanted it. He had been disappointed so many times in his life, why should she be any different? No, he loved her, that's why. She was different even if he refused to acknowledge the truth of the matter.  
  
It was for the best, he thought quietly. Everyone he had ever loved had died and he had been responsible at least in part of for the deaths. His own family had died because of him. Voldemort would not accept entanglements of any sort and so they had been killed. He had watched them suffer, had heard his own mother scream in terror. And he. He had stood there, deft to their suffering. He had stood there and had done nothing to stop their sufferings and deaths. She had been the only person he had ever cared for who had not died. He had not stood by silently. No, he had prevented Voldemort giving her the same fate as all the others.  
  
He stood and turned away. Walking to the store room, leaving her where she sat he retrieved that which she asked for. By the time he got back she was on her feet. Her face showed no sign of that which she had felt mere moments before. No, she was once again the image of serenity. Handing her things to her she politely thanked him, "Thank you, Professor."  
  
"My pleasure, as long as he gets his potion," he said the sneer once again returning to his face. And with that she was gone and he returned to his normal foul mooded self. He took pleasure in the idea that he would have students latter today. He was nearly certain that most would not be passing this lesson.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
This was horribly wrong. Why had she done that? She loved Remus and no other. Or that's at least what she kept trying to tell herself.  
  
She was not disserved of his love, of any love and she knew it. She knew that neither Snape nor Remus should of ever looked upon her and felt what they did. It was wrong, she was wrong. Evil thoughts ran through her head. She considered her wand and how easy it would be. But no.  
  
Naria carried her things back to her classroom and office. Setting them down she sat herself in a chair. No one need know of this. Snape would never tell. It would make everyone happier. Truly Remus didn't need to hear this, at least not so close to the full moon. Her thoughts rambled and rambled. Her head ached. She would worry over this far longer than was fair. She hadn't wanted that kiss, she hadn't needed it. But you were wanting it if not needing it, said a voice that was anything but a conscious. You still want it, it hissed again at her.  
  
"This isn't healthy," she said into the darkened room. "You love Remus. Now get a hold of yourself. Severus means nothing, nothing." That's not true and your well aware. "Now then we have class. They can't see you like this, it would be impropriety of the worst sort. Get a hold." Naria collected herself and thoughts in the darkened study. Soon enough the class began to fill and she would soon give her lesson.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
Remus stood in front of his class, thankful for one major fact, the class he was teaching was full of people who accepted him for who and what he was. Today's lesson was one of difficulty for him, he would be teaching on what he was.  
  
His heart pounded in his ears, beating with such a ferocity that he felt for sure he was dying. Standing in front of his class he felt as if he was on trial, on the stand, and the jury had just announced his guilt and sentence.  
  
"Today's lesson will be one that is considered. practical. by some," his voice held a bit of an edge towards the end of the sentence. His mind went towards Professor Snape for a moment and than back to the class, "We will begin a short study of one of the more dangerous creatures that you may have the misfortune of facing. We will be studying werewolves. As I am sure you are all aware of the fact that I am such a creature. That is why some fear me so much.  
  
"In the study of this subject I ask you to remember that allot of the facts about werewolves are. incorrect at best. I also ask you to remember that when dealing with werewolves in their human form that they too have emotions just as you. They care for people, they can and do love, and they feel pain. But with this group I expect nothing less." A smile crossed his face as he thought about some of his students. He knew that Harry and his friends were more than aware of the dehumanizing effect of certain peoples hurtful words.  
  
"Now then, text books out and wands away. Today we shall take notes and a report will be due by next class." As the class readied themselves he also prepared to begin. He knew that he would have to undo a lot of stereotypical ideas that had been placed in some of his students heads. "Right. Now who can tell me how to cure a werewolf?"  
  
A small sea of hands raised. He noticed at once Hermione Granger, but he knew she would have the right answer and he was looking for the wrong answer for a change. His gaze fell upon Ron. He knew the boy read comic books and stories for fun on occasion and would probably give him the answer he was looking for. "Ron Weasley, yes?"  
  
"You shoot them with a silver bullet," the boy said a tad unsure.  
  
The voice in the back of Remus's head at once began to make remarks. The sort of remarks that could only bring ones moral down. But he choose to ignore them. He had been looking for that answer. "Okay, misconception number one. Hermione care to give us the proper answer?"  
  
The girl immediately beamed with recognition and answered, her voice strong and firm in a know-it-all tone he had come to associate with her "There is no known cure for a werewolf bite after a certain period of time has passed. Upon a bite it can be cured, but certainly not in that form. The Wolfsbane potion may however, alleviate some of the symptoms."  
  
He silently was amazed by how smart this girl really was. He would be horribly surprised if she didn't make head girl in her seventh. No one had higher marks in any class and so it was only logical that the position should go to her. Even Snape, who viewed her as an insufferable know-it-all had not failed her, no, she had excelled. "Very good Hermione, ten points to Gryffindor. Now then if you were to try to cure your relative in the way Mr. Weasley suggested only death would result. This is one of many misconceptions that surrounds the werewolf breed. This is probably the most damning one of all, I must say. Its original purpose was to do away with children from families who had werewolves before there were cures for the were bite. Now it. it lingers, an insipid truth yet to be done away with through logic and understanding on both sides of the line. Now then on the first paper you will be doing in this subject I shall expect. oh, three rolls on. misconceptions about werewolves and the consequences of such misconceptions. No more than one roll on the misconception we discussed today.  
  
"I will be gone tomorrow and in all likelihood the day after that as well. The reason is the full moon. Professor Naria Sojair will however be taking over the class. The rolls are not due to her however, they will be handed to me. Understood?" Nods answered him telling him that they knew all to well what was asked of them.  
  
Remus went over to his desk and sat as they transcribed notes and began working on the paper that would be soon due. Already he had had papers turned in by other classes and felt that since he hadn't anything else to lecture upon today that it made more sense to start grading his enlarging mountain of papers. His nervousness was beginning to ebb. No longer did his heart beat heavily and strong. He knew that already the moon tides were playing with him and toy with him. Tonight was going to be difficult, he was aware. His nervousness would find its way to the wolf's conscious and toy with them. He was silently thankful for the potion that Naria would be brewing after her last class. It would allow him to perhaps go unscathed through out the night.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
Naria leaned over the caldron. She had made this potion a hundred times and yet she had never felt so incompetent as she did now. She was preoccupied and she knew that could be dangerous while making potions such as this. Every ingredient and step she double checked, wouldn't want to poison the poor man. No, he was depending upon her and she would be certain that he remained whole and unscathed throughout the night as best she could.  
  
Adding the last ingredient the caldrons contents began to bubble and froth. At least that was a good sign. She was disserved of one today. It had been trying to say the least. As the smoke and bubbles cleared from her work area Naria took a ladle and put some of the disgusting smelling concoction in a goblet. She would soon enough take this to Remus. She dared not think twice about was in it if she was not to wretch when he downed it. She knew he had the impulse do such when ever he had to drink it down. She was silently thankful that he was not completely aware of its ingredients. She dared not think that he would down it willingly if he was even half aware of what it contained.  
  
Lifting the goblet she made her way back to his wing of classes due to the fact that she was aware he would still be grading and preparing for future classes. She also knew that he would be preparing her lesson plan. Defense Against the Dark Arts was far more important a class then Spells in the current weather of the situation. Her classes had been canceled on all days after the full moon in order that the classes Remus taught went on even without him.  
  
As she walked she thought of the days events. She did not want to look him in the eye. She did not know if she would be able to face him. He trusted her and she had broken his trust in both thought and action. She was not worthy of him and she knew it. She just didn't want him to know it as well. She really didn't know what would happen if he left her. Again the voice in the back of her mind, the one that reminded her of the petulant child we all had again harassed her with evil ideas and thoughts, thoughts of Severus.  
  
As she entered the room she carefully averted her gaze from his. She did however, notice that he carried the same look of complete trust and acceptance he had always carried when he gazed at her. A smile spread across his face, making him look younger, gray hair or not. "Naria, my love, how has your day been? Not trying I hope."  
  
Trying, with the word her heart began to beat at such a speed. She was surprised he did not hear it, surprised the world could not hear it. In her own ears it sounded like the loudest drum she had ever heard. Her face, to her credit, did not redden. A smile that was quit fake spread across her face as she answered. Her eyes, however, did not meet his, "Trying, no. Quite amiable." We've already lied so many times today, what will one more hurt?  
  
"Good, I dare say I think my day would go quite down hill if I found your day had been anything but amiable," he said, his usual cordial self. He hadn't any idea and her lies sickened her. She was especially sickened by how easy they came to her lips. "Is this it?" when she nodded his face contorted a bit at the idea of drinking what was in the goblet. "Well, bottoms up," and with that he swallowed the contents in the goblet. The contorted look on his face only worsened with the taste.  
  
As Naria stood there she suddenly remembered a certain part of his biology. What if he could smell the scent of Snape upon her? Her heart beat even stronger, but in all likelihood the scent of the disgusting concoction would probably out do the scent of the potions master any day. She would however have to take a very long shower if he was not to smell him upon her latter. She silently wondered if that was the only reason she wanted the shower. Can water really wash away my sins?  
  
"Well I have grading to get to, you will of course understand if I am not restored to you tonight for obvious reasons. I, however, have hope for tomorrow night. The lesson plan will be ready for you in the morning and I dare say you can take it from there," again he smiled at his fiancé, oblivious to the thoughts cursing through her head.  
  
She hated him for that. She hated him for not being able to see through her. And she hated herself for allowing these insipid lies to continue, unchecked. She couldn't see herself any more. She had become distorted, herself image horribly altered by both lies and hidden, unsaid desire. Turning she left him to his work. She would spend this night wallowing in self pity and hatred, she was well aware. Naria walked through the hallways, her shoes ringing with every step. Maybe she should eat at the high table tonight, wouldn't want to be seen as antisocial on top of all. But the idea both delighted her and struck her with fear. Could she really endure a meal with Snape's gaze upon her? And Dumbledore. he always knew the truth that sat in ones heart. She was uncertain as to whether she could stand him knowing the truth of her heart.  
  
As she thought about her actions another voice whispered to her, You're glad he can't see through you.Wouldn't want a lycanthrope angry with before the full moon. 


	5. Truth of the Beast

It had been bad this time. The transformation into "the Wolf", even with the potion, could be bad. He may have more control over his actions, but "the Wolf" was still powerful, always battling for control.  
  
After the moon had set, Remus had collapsed on the floor of his small officer. Beneath him sweat mingled with blood. Scratched covered his torso and a bite mark was on his shoulder. That night he had only had brief moments of lucidity. The rest was enigmatic bedlam. "The Wolf" had gotten control and in anger, not being able to hunt, had turned on its self in frustration.  
  
He was to weak to get up. The blood he had and was losing pain a heavy toll. He took comfort in one fact, soon she would get him. Soon Naria would come like an angel of mercy.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
She sat up that night, like she always did. On the night of his transformation she would rarely sleep, waiting for the dreaded orb of the full moon to set. She had come to hate its silver light. She hated what it did to him. But more that that she hated not being able to be with him when he was forced to suffer.  
  
As the silver disk began to set beneath the horizon she pulled on a robe of simple white foile fabric, perhaps and unfortunate choice. In silence she glided through the halls. As she walked to retrieve him that horrible cat of Filtch crossed her path. In her youth that would of meant that Filtch would soon of caught her doing something. Now it only stalked her and her robe that fluttered behind her, the dynamic of the relationship having changed.  
  
The former auror made it to her destination with out much incident. She opened the door. At the sight which met her eyes she shirked. Remus laid in an ever enlarging pool of his own blood. His robes were a tater, scratched to bits along with his chest.  
  
Dropping the potion which she had brought to strength him, the vial shattered. She ran to him and knelt . Nervously she touched his neck for a pulse. It was, to her relief, steady, but it was also weak, very weak.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
"Damn Peaves," grumbled the old caretaker. When he heard the shriek he thought nothing of it, save that Peaves was up to no good. He followed the noise as he heard moans. He looked at the door to who's classroom they belonged, "Peaves, you better not be ruining a class room or Dumbledore will have you out for sure," the man said with a smile as he opened the door.  
  
He saw Professor Sojair, knelt over a form, her outfit soaked in blood. The white quickly leaving the dress to be replaced by blood red that blossomed over her. "Somebody, help me," she called out into the void, or so it seemed to her. She did not notice the caretaker, she did not notice anything but Remus, as she whimpered and worried over her fiancé.  
  
"I'll get Madame Pomphrey," Filtch said while he turned and went to get her.  
  
Naria held Remus tightly to her as she cried over him. She felt so horrible. How could I even question my devotion to him when he went through this sort of ting every month? He suffers to be with me, he suffers to live. Shouldn't his suffering be worth something to him? Shouldn't his devotion be meet with the equal amount of love?  
  
She grasped him tightly to her. Resting her head on his and rocking back and forth crying over him as she waited for the help that she know knew was coming she let him rest in the curve of her arm. She looked at him. His hair was matted to his head with a combination of sweat and blood. His face had stream of blood down one of his cheek. It too mingled with his sweat. The robes she could see in her peripheral vision were tattered. His chest had deep gashes across it, digging into his flesh.  
  
Naria wiped his cheek with her hand, trying to wipe away his blood. She looked at the man and tried to make him look more as he should, she tried in vain. The ex-Auror couldn't do anything. She hated her inability, her impotence. She knew spells that could help set him right, but she also knew that if chance should happen and she was wrong she could seriously damage him. For that reason she held her wand to her side. She wouldn't risk any further injury. She also knew that in her tear ridden state she was far more likely to miss cast. So she sat there, her robes staining while she held her fiancé. She sat there just holding him, just holding him close and telling him how much she loved him.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
"I love you, Remus. I love you. Don't leave me. Please," he could foggily hear a woman's pained voice cry to him. He knew from her please something was a miss, but he was there groggy, not really comprehending what was going on.  
  
"I love you. Please Don't go.Remus," she cried to him again.  
  
He thought it strange that he didn't feel his body. He usually did, but at this moment he didn't care about that. He was comfortable. He had left his body of pain. Why should he go back to it?  
  
"Please..Remus. I love you."  
  
He then thought about the woman who called to him. She was like an angle. Her voice was sweet even as a cry. She had the most lovely face. The face being the only thing he could see clearly of her. It was streaked with tears and for a moment he wondered at her. Who was this woman? Who was this angle who cried over him?  
  
"I love you. Come back." She said again, her voice becoming a bit more clear in his ears only because of his concentration.  
  
He thought about her and then he remembered. She was his fiancé and at this simple dawning he was drawn back to his body. He was drawn back because he never wanted to leave her. He opened his eyes and drew in a sharp, painful breath. After another such breath he opened his mouth to speak, "Naria, I won't." That simple sentence hurt him even more and he closed his eyes again trying to not let the pain get to him.  
  
"I love you, Remus," she repeated holding him tighter to her yet.  
  
He knew that her words held truth and indeed they made him feel better, be it only a smidgeon, but better was better. He wanted so much to raise his hand up and touch her face, but he knew that he hadn't the strength in him to do it and so he was resigned to sit in her arms and wait.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
The new teacher for Hogwarts turned her head as she heard rushed steps down a flight of stairs coming this way. "Help us," she called out and indeed the steps came closer. Madame Pomfrey whoshed in the door her skirt billowing after as she ran. At a similar pace came professors Dumbledore and Snape. This was not surprising, Dumbledore seemed to be every when help was needed and Snape was on duty this night, trawling the halls looking for students who were out of their place.  
  
"I'll take care of him now, dear," said a kindly feminine voice to her. The witch pulled out her wand and waited for Naria to let go. The ex-auror however did no such thing. "Dear?"  
  
Dumbledore touched her shoulder lightly and ended up squeezing it. "We have him now. We will take care of him."  
  
At Dumbledore's warm and friendly voice she let him go. He leaned down and looked at her with concern while the school nurse whisked Remus onto a stretcher and to the infirmary, muttering a spell or two to heal him in the process. "It will be okay, Ms. Sojair."  
  
Naria looked at him blankly and then she shook herself out of it. "Umm. yeah," she said with a dim voice that she hardly recognized as hers. Her eyes almost immediately turned to that dead, not there state.  
  
"Professor. I will help you get to the hospital wing," Dumbledore said warmly to her as he squeezed her shoulder lightly. Even with Dumbledore's many years he pulled her up, surprising both Professor Snape and Sojair at the strength his old body held. Dumbledore lead her through the corridors, his arm around her to support her in her dazed state.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
Sunlight cascaded down from the hospital's castle windows, refracting their golden rays across every surface they touched. Light that crowned Professor Sojair's sleeping continence with a hallo of light. She had not left his side since. since the beast took control. The chair next to Remus's bed was always occupied with her form, from morning to night and well beyond. She had wanted to be there when he woke up. She had wanted to be there for him, but in truth she stayed for selfish reasons. She needed to stay.  
  
Remus's eyes fluttered open softly to the golden light of midmorning. He felt Naria's hand, which grasped his through out the night. He smiled lightly and ran his thumb over the soft skin of the back of her hand. The sight of Naria seemed to give Remus more energy. He still felt fatigued, but at least it was better. The recovering professor sat up slowly, trying to avoid awakening his sleeping fiancé. It indeed looked as though she needed the sleep.  
  
Madame Pomfrey quickly strode over. "Feeling better, deary?" she asked quietly.  
  
"Umm." Remus said blankly for a moment and then asked a question that had been bothering him, "What happened?"  
  
"Professor Sojair found you in a puddle of your own blood. You were quite a mess. You've been laying here for three days," the school nurse answered quietly.  
  
Remus frowned at this news and then asked, "How long has she been here?"  
  
"Since we brought you in. Dumbledore hadn't the heart to tell her to leave. This is the first time she's slept in days. Poor girl, she's been worried sick. Well, seeing you awake will certainly brighten her spirits," Madame Pomfrey answered with her normally pleasant nature.  
  
"Thank you, Poppy," Remus said to her.  
  
"Now take your medicine," the nurse said a little more sternly. She had grown used to students who didn't want to take they're often foul remedies.  
  
"Yes, Madam," he said with a face that was hardly straight and mockingly snapped a salute. He swallowed the medicine he was offered. He made a small grimace as he downed the medicine. The nurse quickly took her leave after her charge had followed her orders. Remus then looked back at Naria and out stretched his hand to press against her cheek and to brush it lightly. "Love.love," he called to her.  
  
She woke with a start and then looked at him. A smile immediately crossed her face and then she sat up. "Remus. how do you feel?" She asked with a worried look that followed her smile.  
  
"I think Poppy has worrying over me covered, Naria," he said softly with a smile, an infectious smile that quickly spread to his fiancé. "I'll be fine, hun. Go get some sleep. You look like you could use it, love."  
  
"No. I'm staying," she said rather defiantly, even though she was tired.  
  
He studied her for a moment and a vague, pensive smile spread over his face. "Okay, love," he said plainly. In truth, he did not have any desire for her to leave, save that he cared for her and wanted to insure her comfort.  
  
He looked at her in the soft light. The vague smile was still spread across her face. She looked as though she were deep in thought and then she suddenly spoke, "I can't figure out what I did wrong. I've brewed this potion.What?. Eleven times. Every time I brew it make sure that I double check every step, but." She bit her lip as she delved into her thoughts.  
  
Naria had the tendency to talk things through. He understood that people process information in different ways and in some ways he found it fascinating to be privy to another's thought patterns. This time, however, he knew what she was thinking and doing. "Naria, look at me," he ordered her, but his kindly voice lessened the brunt of this order. He did, however, want to impress something upon her, something he did not want her to forget. "I'm sure this wasn't your fault. I do not want you thinking that is." She looked as though she was going to protest so he paused for a moment and held up a finger, "Let me continue." She nodded in a resigned way. "I don't want you thinking that this was your fault for a few simple reasons. One, you are an excellent potions brewer. I have seen how meticulous you are when you brew and this perfectionist streak of yours, while annoying at times.." He smiled wistfully for a moment. "It is still very conducive to a proper brew. Two, for lack of a better word, "the Wolf" is hard to control even with that potion. Sometimes are worse than others. I think you knew this instinctively, though. There was a reason you stayed out side the shed on the nights of my transformation." As he spoke, Naria averted her gaze for a moment. That's not like her normal self he thought to himself, but chalked it up to the events that had occurred. "Third, the Muggles have a magic of their own, which they call science. One of the principals based on reasonably sound logic is called Ockham's Razor. In principle it means that the simplest explanation is often the correct one. I only had one goblet full of the potion, clearly not enough."  
  
"But.." she started to protest.  
  
"No 'buts'." He then toke on a less severe stance and asked, "Whose taught my classes while I've been here?" He was hoping that it would not be Snape.  
  
"I tried to prevent Snape from doing it, but alas this did not work," Naria said with a slight grimace when she spoke the Potion Master's name.  
  
"That's okay," he said off handedly. Part of the arrangement Professor Lupin had made with Dumbledore when he agreed to return was that Snape would not teach his classes, but Remus was a practical man. He understood that agreements can not always be kept.  
  
"Dumbledore did, however, restrict what he taught. He made it perfectly clear that Snape was not to teach anything on werewolves," the ex-auror said softly, looking at her nearly fallen love laying on the infirmary bed.  
  
Lupin smiled for a second more brighter than before, a silent thanks to Dumbledore. "Has Poppy said when I should be recovered enough to return to work?"  
  
"This afternoon. She said that once you awoke she wanted to keep you in observation for a few hours afterwards, but if you seemed to be on the road to recovery you would be able to leave." Then the woman gave him a deep and thoughtful look. She frowned slightly before she spoke, "I'm sorry, Remus. I'm sorry I couldn't teach your class."  
  
Remus had stared at her for a moment as she apologized, hoping she was not on her previous track again and then when it became apparent she wasn't he silently heaved a sigh of relief. "Don't worry about it. It was nicer waking up to you anyways," he said softly. Not only was he trying to comfort her, but it was the truth. "Now then. I'm going to stop talking. You need sleep and I'm not going to give you an excuse not to get some."  
  
"But I prefer speaking to you."  
  
He just looked at her with a smile, a challenging smile. He chose not to answer her proclamation thus staying with his previous stance. He enjoyed playing with her on occasion and giving her "the silent treatment" would certainly irritate her in all the best ways.  
  
"Oh, come on.I know what you are doing."  
  
He arched his eyebrows at her using his body language to say "Oh, really."  
  
"You're just trying to irritate me. I can see that perverse smile on your face. You're enjoying this."  
  
He shrugged in an overemphasized fashion, the smile widening on his face through out the whole "conversation".  
  
Naria bowed her head in resignation and she surreptitiously looked through her veil of blonde locks that cascaded over her eyes. Remus then leaned over a wrapped his arms around her, "Okay. I surrender," he said jovially. Naria then looked up and smiled. She could play as well he.  
  
She then whispered to him softly, "I love you, Remus." For the first time since ariving at Hogwarts she was completely sure of this fact. Remus was whom was meant for. An enigmatic smile spread over her small lips.  
  
"I know," he said softly. As he wrapped his arms around her and held her, he breathed in her soft scent. He had returned to her from a place of pure joy, a place away from pain and he knew that it was worth it. He closed his eyes and took in one more intake of sweet air before he let go.  
  
-=(^)=-  
  
A day latter after having recovered considerable Remus walked the corridors of the castle in the early morning for an appointment he was not looking forward to. Though Remus was considered recovered, her hardly felt it. After particularly bad transformations, it always felt like he had had his strength stolen from him, as if a succubus had forcibly taken it from him. Though on occasion he had reason enough to call Naria that, he knew that rationally that could not of happened. It was the lycanthropy. It took his energy away with every transformation. Remus had heard of strains of the disease which as it progresses the transformations no longer pain the werewolf and some nights that type of the disease seemed preferable, even with the nasty side effects it possessed. This second form of lycanthropy was also known as malignant lycanthropy. It was definitely the worse strain of the two. Malignant lycanthropes were the cause of a lot of the hatred towards werewolves in general. Lycanthropy changes a person's personality. Sometimes these changes are subtle, as with the case of the disease Remus carried, other times they are not. Malignant lycanthropy is marked with extreme personality changes, driving the effected individual into rage during the strong phases of the moon. The Wolfsbane potion had to be adjusted for this type of lycanthropy, but this was the type where individuals enjoyed their transformation. It was freedom for them. Dangerous freedom, but freedom none the less.  
  
The dungeons were dark and dank. They were a place designed for foul things. Remus always felt uncomfortable when he walked down the steps that led to the entrance of Snape's classroom and adjacent office. Today was little different. He wrapped lightly on the large wooden door that closed off his classroom before the day had began. He had had several thefts from his potions ingredients and thus he was loath to keep anything unlocked. Remus knew that Snap blamed Harry for most of the thefts. Remus of course doubted the charges, but if Harry were the culprit magic locks would do little to help. The Marauder's Map was still in Harry's possession. While made by Hogwarts students, the map was a powerful magical tool for mischief. Remus smiled at the thought of the map. It seemed only fitting that it should go to Harry. He knew as a teacher he should not condone the possession of such a map, but as an ex-Marauder he could hardly begrudge Harry the possession of it. The map also had other benefits. It had saved Harry's life and the lives of his friends. So depriving him of it might mean that Remus had made it that much easier to do Harry in. Even though the map was a powerful tool, he also knew that Harry was adventures. He claimed that he did not call trouble to himself, that rather trouble found him. In some cases this was indeed true, but in others Harry's inquisitive nature put him in danger. Isn't there a muggle saying about a cat.Oh, yes. Curiosity killed the cat. And while Remus did not think that curiosity was a bad thing, he knew that untamed curiosity could be dangerous. When one was already marked, it indeed was.  
  
Muffled by the door Remus heard Snape's voice snipe, "Come in." Remus toke a second gulp and entered as the magical door swung open on its own. He would have been amazed, but magic no longer really surprised him. He knew it was a simple charm that had preformed this feat in silence.  
  
Remus saw Snape bent over a caldron coaxing his mixture. He gave a weak smile as Snape looked up at him. He was met with that look of pure hatred and loathing that Snape had been unable to let go of. They all knew that they were as strong as the were united, but Snape toke these words to mean able to work together. This did not necessarily include being civil to those you work with. When it came to human interactions Snape was rarely the bigger man. As a child he had never learned to hide his loathing, unlike so many others. In some ways it was better. When it came to Snape, if he loathed a person they knew they could expect a knife in the back. There were few exceptions to this rule, but there were exceptions. Even though Snape hated James's son, he had done his best to save Harry. His loathing did not follow into a murderous side, or a side so callous as to allow murder. "You asked to speak with me," the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher said meekly.  
  
"What biased lesson do you plan to teach the Slytherins about werewolves?" Snape asked in a voice that was closer associated to a growl.  
  
"Everything that is pertinent," Remus answered him, looking him in directly in the eye. Professor Lupin's face was now harder than it had been before, closed. He knew what to expect from this conversation.  
  
"You mean every thing you feel is pertinent?" Snape said with a voice that was far colder than before.  
  
"Severus, make your point," Remus said impatiently.  
  
"I'll make this simple for you, Professor," Snape's voice, while normally full of contempt, was worse when ever he uttered the word "professor" in conjunction with Remus.  
  
"Werewolves ARE dangerous. You are going to teach them that your kind are people too, but you're not. You're killers, nothing less, nothing more. The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures should deal with all your kind. What are you going to teach them? That werewolves are no more dangerous than average dog. Your students will be vastly misinformed and to their own peril. Think about what happened that night you didn't get you potion. You could of killed. you would of killed."  
  
"I have no intention in teaching them werewolves are not dangerous. In the form of the wolf we are. We do not have control of our actions. BUT I do intend to teach them that though they should be wary of werewolves, they are indeed people to. We don't warrant destroying. Your hatred blinds you to this fact. What if you were a werewolf or someone you cared about? You would have a very different view. I want to show them that some creatures are dangerous, but that does not mean they should be eradicated. All it means as that one should be educated and wary when need be." Remus's voice was strong and proud. He was not going to let Snape bully him. Then as after thought he added, "This is a disease, an affliction. I am as much a wizard as you. The same applies to those affected with this condition."  
  
"Deep down you know you are a killer, Remus," Snape said simply as he turned his back to the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.  
  
"Deep down I know I have free will. I am more than my biochemistry," Remus said to the void that Snape had created by turning his back to him. "I fight with every fiber of my being to stop those who do evil. I fight to save some man, woman, child, wizard, witch, or muggle I don't know. I fight against those who don't believe in free will, against those who don't think it counts for anything and thus they believe they are entitled to bend the wills of others to achieve their goals. I make a conscious choice to protect life, Severus. I'm not a killer. I fight those who are. I always have. I always will. Blood has very little to do with the equation."  
  
Severus Snape turned sharply around and glowered at Remus. His voice was a deadly hiss as he spoke, "Then explain your willingness to tear me apart."  
  
"Other than you nasty attitude? Other than your irrational hatred brought about by jealousy?" Remus said softly, but his quiet voice still held all the force of a yell. "Simple, Severus, it's called dementia. Dementia that is brought about by the transformation. Dementia that can now be controlled. Dementia that can be channeled. Dementia that can be stopped. There was a time when I might have bought your arguments about werewolves and how dangerous we supposedly are. Now that time has passed. With the invention of the Wolfsbane potion we can not be called all evil. We have a choice now about our condition and whether we will let it effect others, harm others, kill others. But you see, Severus, that is the key. It has been and always will be choice. Our choices make up the fundamental differences between people. Those people who choose to do things that are fundamentally rooted in evil make a conscious choice. It is a choice that effects all of their actions. But the reverse of the equation are those who choose to protect people, to help them. Your inability to understand the subtle difference between actions and intentions is what holds you to your pain and prevents you from being able to do those things you have wanted. Why do you think you have been passed up from the Defense Against the Dark Arts job? Because you don't understand the difference between a spell and curse at the fundamental level. They are one and the same when it comes to the incantation, it's the intent that changes a spell into a curse and vice versa."  
  
Remus then sharply turned away from Snape and walked out of the dungeon. As he exited through the door, he said over his shoulder, "That is the truth of the beast, Severus. Intention." 


End file.
